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A pretty watery nozzle to be fitted
hang it
just the noise for the low rows
I can’t
protons the labels on finery
monotony
a cake on hand
I thought
I might
From On the Nameways (The Figures, 2000) by Clark Coolidge. Copyright © 2000 by Clark Coolidge. Used with the permission of the publisher.
Call the Mars handlers
and take a breath of Brautigan
Geary’s sort of tuneless
on this mortal afternoon
ONE WAY UP
this rock of thrown attention
we will meet at After Mart
the fun to be made slicker
corridor of the final offer
She took him and left
he had her and stood
a very bright burial over
only one fence
and bomb in frozen lake
they termed each other to death
dry flakes up pond ladder
and that door was a slammer
violet threads in her vanilla shake
The snakes came from the farms but now are far from harming
anybody. Furry followers held in check. Nights we all were
out the flames moved in. Wouldn’t it be simpler the wooden
things to wave? Nada. I’ll place a cape in front of your
linen spot. Takes care to stop a tear. Then the train came
and we all began mumbling.