What do you want?  I want to die.  Valley spades the catalinas and the Madonna black welcomes sinners dying  Will is dying word    I wouldn’t die if I tried  I laugh loudly I couldn’t die if I tried menaces old youth -- youth old -- I sit by a serpent, the Red Woman, a false eye black hair and she tells me she knew a jazz musician once, a young lion -- an evangelist -- Christina her camera at a train station no that camera stranger on 300 dollars, be an extra for me we have bagels and do nuts for you.  Infintesmal roaches and catfur sticking to girlish robbery     face become black various black in 240 cm by 240 cm his black favoring a wall and threw himself against a wall and broke his hands and all the blood ran out black packed with bits of clay and brush    Blue oh soul blue
    Blue oh soul blue
    Indigo coal mood
copy left death oh soul blue duke
    Blue oh soul blue
    Blue oh soul blue
    Three compositions jazz new 
On the millions dying upon my friendly dying when light shaded itself from me forth fourth did a god desert me in a longing did a god dress me in a succumbing circle fragrant trance of a desiring circle vanities leaving coddles vanities lay whorld furthing Copernicus thoughts skipping death danced medieval my tiring face        Absent eyes met eyes and laughed with no body    blue blue blue blue all summeri na day An Sun that blooms the wolf hour    When in city skyscrapers like a varese hyper prism my pigeon came to me lightly bobbing her round head and I fed her saltines from my coat pocket and alltime I exited my hotel room in my sleeping clothes I met Margaret ( I named her Margaret Cora) and I fed her saltines.  Sometimes she climbs into my coat pocket while I wash my hands many.  The desert music is a triadic step.  
            Hop down little Margaret
                   To the cup of my Hand
I find you again, my unnatural junctive dance -- I enclose you within the circle -- the circle interrupts (Trine [time by time] interrupts circle) -- interrupted God to interrupt Word(s) and corrupt the circle (the circle’s corner interrupted by a tricorn) and disrupts as a Wedding.  My brother married.  Wedding, I find you again, your white your darkened white, neregiven by many haps and goveshans to Frost, white Frost collared to Wedding and Winter (the absence of Winter in Summer Snowdoll) and it happens -- my brother married -- it happens know-how the Tulare River down in leafrot and curvings (and if we walk along the deformation of ground, the water comes to the surface of the trail, and Krystal and I walk -- walk to find beer bottle glass or the piece of translucent blue [everything returns to blue everything returns to ringed lime[ and the path is almost sandy almost Polaris).  It curves to the Baptist don Church tied green in four blasts Kingdom is there, Wedding Sinfonia with This Ring I wed thee I wedded thee to a circle interrupted -- interrupted by a God my brother Married -- Wedding Sinfonia, true as a tie, fraught as an unnamable -- the flowers -- the flowers swimming roses where engaged is engaged and the stone is a meteorite:  powerful as the alphabet the Sacrosanct Sunflower and Rare a Life (Flowers bloom yonder by the graveyard) and I stood in front of the Church the Word Cross of a Watch, austere and bodyless and I am not a (good) man, but a man only, a glenn slow of fire slanted over a boy the bog which blessed thee (mossy ice and jam harvested North) dune on the dance chimeras
Do doe do doe do doe do doe dx dx dx dx 
Ribbons ribbons rack ribbons red ribbon real ribbon rest ribbon rown
And I do not want to forget.
And I do not want to forget.
As I old becoming the old I am less human -- no I am more human -- human as humankind -- I become -- I result -- I fear losing your individual -- your letter your magical alphabet, your séances, your seams, your human separate from human, eyeloss but knowing touch and sound -- larks charm up down strange top bottom left left A Bee starts, thirty strong to live to be thirty in small calls, hanatarasha and bottom, top bottom, bottom carter tin a top twirled by shoelace or string strange, the code figured figure figurine figured porecelain strange the lock strange the loch black and dye, died frail dived to underwater cave, earth core urn, undercavern -- very strange but charming, charming as a lonely tourist who’s imbibed a few drinks; bubbled up to the top, the rotting log, imitating its cheat at the bottom, down to the slit and silver, a ten thousand ago, a ten thousand ego.  Cartoons, saxophones and jazz drumming
Listening to Ornette Coleman -- Virgin Beauty -- at 1:34 am.  Oddly funky and microtonally blue.  Listening to Napalm Death at 1:37 am.  The snow leopard and funshine bear hang out on Lake Baikal. 
I watched Juno with my mom, C says, when I went home this weekend.  When the woman who takes Juno’s baby finally gets to hold the baby for the first time, Juno’s step mom comes in and the woman asks her, “how do I look?” and Juno’s step mom replies “like a mother.”  I cried and cried!  My mom asked me when I was having babies.  I said I wasn’t sure if I was having any.  I think Thomas is scared what I’ll be like when I’m pregnant.  Plus I’m already not very nice to Sharp Tooth.  I don’t know what I’d do with a baby.  Be Jealous?  Probably.  I hope you meet someone you haven’t met yet, C says.  Maybe you’ll go to some conference for nursing and you’ll meet a girl from Canada.  Those girls seem pretty nice.  You would need a nice girl to deal with you.  You would not want to be around me.  It would wear you down and you would think, “she is right; this wasn’t worth it”.
    -- I like the name Agamemnon.  That’s Thomas’ car’s name.  I think you would make a wonderful father.  I     hope to baby-sit your kids someday.
/J.G. Ballard you dead asshole -- you died today..  I don’t know you -- only your name -- only shots of a David Cronenberg movie where the sex fetished and fucked everyone’s minds and bodies / or the excerpts from short stories:  the latent sexual content of automobile crashes -- James Dean, Jayne Mansfield, Albert Camus.  I don’t know who Jayne Mansfield is.  Fucking in cars my feel very fast.  Crashing even faster.  Terrifying.  Sequences caused orgasm in 85 percent of trails.  If only you died in one of those crashes -- only if you were assassinated by a lone gunmen -- not debilitated.  Work -- created -- should destroy or die / Mourning periods of relatives in automobile accidents slightly reduced.   This is the only anonymous death that matters to me -- the rest I remember names.  (Megan I said you are powerful and your faces will be ahung the crowds of dying) someone once said, I hope I die before I get old.  Another said, an old man is a nasty thing.  17 more than I ever wanted or needed.  Black is the colour of her hair and Black is her hair.  Out Out black hair.  Black like a Raymond pettibond monochrome.  Everything went black.  Black in hallucination.  Black as hallucination is speech and black as hallucination in writing, written as a dark tradition, the dark cosmos, the uncreated darkness, black and allergenic as prehistory.  
Levi liked the Easter celebration.  He went egg hunting .  There were toys hidden in the yard too.  When he found the car, he picked it up and ran off with it.  HE didn’t care about the eggs anymore.  Some of the eggs had money in them.  Levi doesn’t know what money is used for.  HE doesn’t care about money because he doesn’t know how to use it.  He knows how to push a car.  My family gave him candy and toys.  HE doesn’t like candy much -- he likes cookies.  I get to keep the Pez.  I haven’t had Pez in a long time.  Three flavors:  lemon, chocolate, and strawberry.  A bunny Pez dispenser.  
It is real to be alive.  It’s real to be alive.  It is real to live.  It feels real to live.  
    One gold wedding ring on third finger of left hand
    Small watch on left arm
    A three-acorn brooch on dress, in front
    One small catholic cross under dress
    Yellow dress yellow shoes                (it tells about the death of a woman
    Shot shot shot shot                        (has all die woman ashes
    Below a left two-two-                (awe
    One-one-one-six-five

Can I tell you about a dream I had last night?  Jess from Gilmore Girls and I were going around killing people.  We had some sort of grandiose plan that ended us killing my mother.  But when we got to her place, Jess made me do everything and told me to make it look messy.  Brains were all over the floor.  I look up and my older sister is standing there watching me.  I ran outside to hide and Jess had set a trap for me.  I slipped on some blood and he hung me with a wire.  I just hung there for a long time.  When I woke up, my mouth was blocked and I couldn’t breathe because I’m sick right now.
Sky is a cross, the blue symphonie monotone.  The unicolour Cross is the negative space -- flame-bastard two hands -- dangers sign Cross -- bootlaces steel laces whitespace -- dangerous is the crucified man, for he is crucified.  Dangerous is the crucified woman, for she is a woman, and the crucifixion womanizes her.  Jesus saith unto her, Woman why weepest though?  Dora, the woman weeps.  God speaks to me in the Desert.  God threatens me there.  Violence -- God is the violence -- the empty of the Desert -- the capsule of the Desert -- or God’s voice or God spoke is the bogeyman -- a rawhead and bloody bones -- the wailing bog -- Christ in amorphous sexuality.  Walt Wthiman says of him:  his arm lay lightly over my breast -- and that night I was happy.  But Whitman did not realize the Living Oak was also Him -- or realized, taking the spray of moss, but feared -- And I realize Christina is the Oak or She is the bloody creature devouring tongues in a forbidden dream -- a dream of slippery skirt -- or she is the violence of the desert -- and all objects become myself and hers or hers or that man or that woman (the last man and woman or the first woman and man)
              -- we never separate --
We separate and converge continuously -- in car crashes -- in gas diffusion -- passionate fucking -- a tuning orchestra -- wood burnt to ash
    It is finished in beauty
    It is finished in beauty
Strawberries and Sunflowers:  Strawberries and Sunflowers, everything is a cipher and I ever sign and symbol.  Strawberry and Sunflower often I have trouble falling asleep and Old Christina converses with me.

You know what?  Summer is boring.
Saturday mornings were wonderful (tube-to-canvas
I want to work at Ryan’s place -- you get to wear cute little waitress uniforms (seated nude -- crouching nude with         downcast eyes
This is the third time this week I’ve had to scrape you off of something -- it’s from spongebob squarepants.  I know       it’s your favorite (bathers with a tortoise
The server is down and I couldn’t finish your thousand emails (nude with drapery
I found this awesome poem by the Zodiac Killer (Credo in Us
To be honest, I don’t believe you (Kiss in the ring
I wish Dr. Hannibal Lecter was a real person (goodnight Irene
The phone number you gave me was wrong (but I’ll bet ya by bottom dollar I’m not fattening no more frogs for     snakes
I just found out that I am not following the example of Jesus by taking such hard classes (scourge slay suddenly
It was a time when critters were closer to folks and folks closer to critters -- I saw it on a sign outside of Spaslh Mountain.  Of course, I didn’t write Splash Mountain.  I went on ET and it was so sparkly!  I told them my name was Gwendolyn.  There were so many faerie-like aliens.  They were pretty.  And at small world, there were a lot of these pretty lights.  And there was this parade and it had the nucracker and there was this pretty ballerina with this sparkly skirt.  I love this place ( I would marry here
Ginny and I went on Peter Pan.  There are black lights so everything white glows.  We wanted to see if our bras glowed, so we lifted up our shirts and found out they did. Then we remembered that there are cameras all over the place, so the people running the ride saw me without a shirt on… (such a simple thing -- such a shiny ring
    (Christina tells me today she is engaged.  I cried -- no, I didn’t cry because crying is difficult and it takes a train to cry.  Better to laugh although sometimes the street laughs and the lamps stalk.  Thomas planned a trip to Disneyland for me, Chris says.  We went from Wednesday to Saturday.  Thursday morning at Disneyland, Thomas proposed to me.  Those picture people were there.  We’re marrying Spring 20__.  On the way home, he asked how long it would be until we have babies.  He’s read to settle down.          I get bored of marriages.  I get bored of marries.  They fatten ad wolve, rocking green-eyed babies in impossible trees.  The dogs howl.  The wolves howl and storytell.  I will not marry.  It’s a bore -- but I would have married a Christina and I remember trying to convince her to marry me.  I wanted to marry a Christina Marie.  You’re too sentimental -- emotional -- the dark body lie the dark body lies -- You’ll run away.  You’ll always want the Other Life.  I don’t’ want to be a hobo anymore, Chris says.     I will hobo -- the hobo died.  No one picks up hitchhikers.  They vanish or carry picks and pikes.  I will busk.  Why the hell did you come here anyway?  They says there’s a hell -- what the hell do they think this is?  Just a truck not a fuck just a truck.  It’s a bore.  But that’s what marriage is.  Christina do you think it’s a bore?  Yes but that is what life is.  So a fuck, not a truck.  
    (I watched ducktails this morning.  What an awesome show!  I miss all those old shows from when we were little:  darkwing duck, rainbow brite, strawberry shortcake, care bears, my little pony, surfs, ninja turtles -- Michelangelo was hot…
It looked like it could fit about four of you (a woman drew her long black hair out tight
There were so many pretty children there.  I want some.  I want to drop out of school and be a mom (River Marne     harbor draw out her long black hair
It’s Tuesday and I convinced you to stay home!
I think I’m dying, but my doctor says I’m not.  What does he know?  Not much, in my opinion (you dance to it
I’m worried because you are ignoring my advice and you are probably playing that awful game.  In fact, you’re playing it right now, aren’t you?  I can’t leave you alone for five minutes (as for me, I am a child of the gods of the     mountain
100 bottles of pop on the wall (the beck hits her
I bought a little white shirt and a really pretty purse.  I need some sunglasses.  It felt good and very selfish to buy things for myself.   Boys, what’s with them?
I like Degas.  I like Pollock.  I like Diego Rivera.  I like going to the getty and I like crappy local art museums.
(what did you choose what did you choice?
A handful of birds I would never keep
In my palm, they nary make a peep
I saw gods ascending out of the Earth
I saw a woman having a familiar Spirit
And she brings forth to feed me
And slaughters wheat     wheat raised yourself meat
And needs of it
Beaming ascending out of the earth gods do
Ascending out mouth missing prophets do
Willed to will    slaughtered to slaughter
I am Good Earth and I am Good stars
Draft sinner dreb sinner distressed you stubborn
The woman angels and horns     the woman spirits and recovers
She blesses you, sinner, confessing -- could not kill --

Yet my love is most excellent
Crossed through the face of a baby
Crossed through the baby’s face
Time regained, time image /

To ‘penguin’ to ‘hammer’ for Lorca
Marilyn Brommer’s ‘coughing twice’ uttering the name ‘Paris off a Poster’ and ‘Beer for Berlin’
    For Robert Rauschenberg, a dead man
           A flavour for burial
           A flavour for lines in a burial
White the speech of a dead man assembles a coffin (casket) with 
A build-in ash tray, enough room.  For another Philip Guston lying
On his side    abrupt interruption engaged Christina the 
Death bells church two Ruslan bell her engagement and Mickey Mouse ears, erased vigorously like a De Kooning -- I liked that drawing, De Kooning said, I had attachment.  That’s why I gave it away.  (Force-fine contra bewitching, that frankful goat Goya guzzled under a coven sipndle and evil eye -- epidemic and chances evil -- to jump the broom and bosom flames away a day under a spindle for bewitching
Levi stares at himself in the mirror, and exclaims in satisfaction and glee.  He picks up a cap and puts it on his head, adjusting it in the mirror.  He seems to have an amazingly developed and inflated sense of self for an almost-two year old.  He must get it from his uncle.