Someone running up a flight of stairs in your head heavy bones, human eyes. As the heart grows— life means mostly waiting for life— it assumes a more vertical…

  I don’t find you rotten, no, just do your thing and think no more of me, okay?                            . Shop until your money’s spent, or to your heart’s content, but…

  A part of him understands the fact of this as sport, though then a part of him does not, and stands each time amazed when finally a player goes…

  Well, more a whisper than a word, it proceeds unsurely, of itself, of the low branches of the bushes it blushes its slow way toward. So he says entropic…

A thumb of grass in the East & fingers of timbered stream valleys west-bound a cowbird rolls an egg from a dickcissel’s nest parasite    decoy    pond-bed stocked with winter-whitened antlers …

The idea that thought is the same thing as language is an example of what can be called a conventional absurdity.  — Steven Pinker Dream-sentence on the tip of my…

  This morning came a tapping, as of someone rapping, from the entertainment room. The writing wasn’t going all that well, so I clicked my save icon, burying the misbegotten…

—for Betty Edwards and Betty Dodson and the ’70s  One who drew with her right brain, another self-pleasuring like mad, both easy to mock in hemp dresses and chunky necklaces.…

  He limps forward, hamstrung by the maquahuitl breeze. Or does he use such language to get sympathy?   He’s learned the name of every known disease, and claims them…

  certain kinds of wind in the blue-green disbelief of your misfortunate and persistent incursion into the unreality of bones blood sinews, the parts of the body belong to the…

  It won’t stay balled, this slick rayon. Thick thread, I’d call it, rather than fine yarn, the grey and green variegated viscose I wind. Greys of battleships and guns,…