it was/ it s

so some women  (like ) this one you are a  pleasure to watch speak
                                                                       was a pleasure to watch 
                                                                 on the metro as you were going home
                                                                  returning from the other town

so love goes at first bidding
 the city buses are filled with them
   and the  One alone goes walking
             and he's alone as the city matures , daily , yearly ,, making its way.. and the night goes.. he thinks of you , yes     ~.


the conformity of the event    ~ NEED need not end there    ~ you are speaking

Are your eyes like that C? big and searching?
moons and satellites

--------------------- 'in the same universe'

----------------------------------------and here are 
thoughts from text machine

_______________Why would a woman bed scared of shit? and the bungabungawooand
               the bungabunga do?_what the What the real Montrealdoes is mix everyone up and that
is why it is eat and how come the why the state  wants to end it because it cant control it

-------------------------------------------------------------------------speak to you yes  I do . 
want to .

---------------------------------  this city is filled with people    ~  THE 



re:: foursore

: foursore is not

fourscore an
love's not a score
neither of this nor that
but bunting a preparation for the partition
a ringing on the hustings
a lip speaking weak weak weak kiss me my lips hurt they are numb from neglect


as your

  i'll send a kiss meantime

as being belongs to love

your neck ~

  as a kiss belonging belongs                                 a  neck to  time

as being belongs to love belongs
to become

your neck ~

  as a kiss belonging belongs                                 a  neck to  time




  1. turns out the Russians are not racist.

  2. and the world turning it spins like a hopping bell.

  3.  not a bullshit snake but the badmne are always on the edge

  4.  hovering like their death wanting to make their own death our own.

  5.  but along the city skulks the infinite body of lovers.

  6. in their fold and death's mantle cant chug too long and  the strong storm passed and the world went, O and something about anagram .

  7. and your lips which you've withheld too long and the body's brief stay on earth.

  8. where is earth? she's paused between a comma and a doubt    ~,

                                                                                       she's paused



thanking Corry Shores

Corry Shores has been posting a series of Entry directories for the various thinkers, artists, painters, poets and film-makers who interest him.

 I'd like to thank him once more __(repetition gives value to meaning)for his intelligent and sensitive readings and commentaries on some of the work that I post and blog     ~ iT GOES with saying that Corry Shore's own philosophical investigations are always of interest to this reader      ~.


I, on the other hand,  am the worldest worst discursive writer ~ there are times I can barely think at all and writing works for me as a function of this poetic-desire machine  ploughing and cutting and mining its way through the articulate and inarticulate moments of living and breathing   ~ the body
and non-body as art   ~.

so how does one thank ? One says 
thank you
and thanks


thanks to thanking
hands held shaking
over sea and time
to thanking thanks
thanks to thank
thank to

and rivers the way across

Outside and In 



Not with (too)


you  dont see anything there but a  smile  cheeks

 a wide smile like faye dunaway
  thats a face to crack. a wing along the putting  trail. putting. Putting. yes we are intimately close.
 what is she  doing sitting there with Mister Tatoo and don't tell me Mister Tatoo is not wearing a sign of violence. She sits on her hands. Slightly cold. I don't believe she's with. 

Not with.

The vanity of ecstasy is not . The vanity of stats  .

the ghost of Graham just walked . In.

Then out. The Body disappearing.

In by to deterritorialize his guest. Not a symbiosis.
but the true territorial ghost of his self. A guest.
what is a guest. a knock knock knock. On the battlement
hearkened at night nigh to night!

dadadiscoesque is what she wrote along her hand hennaed.

its your semicolon

theres a weirdo i assumea second rate secondecup dealer with his doberman! gofucken figure

and LIke

the students like drove 

groove you were  wrong you were wrong this knight goes gift oriental  not a slumber but a 

sleeping giant fired to the ground ground  and workered to ground and it drifts you say? somewhere now

and works the point 'what's up guys's?' says guy to girls pretending its the conceit pretence

its nota pretence its  acommon conceit 'that bears examining?' notso wel so not. puffs a cigarette  from ontario and parts elsewhere

--------------------------Like Like Like if she says one more like she'd pull her mouth off her
breast as she s sapphicsame sexed loved to the nth degree. Not a thousand tiny but a 100 giant sexes. She's ripped in gray flannel stat    ~.

Her dum dog body ass cheeked to gulp gulpgulp forever. And remember she's lost commas and pages along the way the horse's hay and pregnant as  a bush. She's worn out . but not down. this is a  book Radio Fm Am Radio self. Time dates after A. B. No the date is organized around the dates A.B. and so on. but really the book's a diamond in the flaw. She's written the page of your health. Not a summer between her legs. Her hideyhideyhideyho   ~ . The Michael Fredricks hero ism to prism.A busted geezer? Notso if Mona becomes. The second third and fourth return returning and coming . And finding refinding the hohey hammah

She's reversed gear. Coming along cd god. Not made but begetted by the only belonging father of many. The numerous multiplicity and complicity. Blue Dog shifts her gear. it's Antioedipus and Mona. Mona fries onions tells truth patterns seeks the belle mot. A mot juste to pair how do you spell pare . pare her finger nails. she's god not home. One beside the becomings.

Shes the ones making the revolt after. the city . after Bosnia . Machine guns blasting. School was just out. before the betrayal. of over love abandoned by the police of language. this power trap of she looks like Frankenstein but your eyes were not lying you were . the face  is a monstrosity. Wont you lookat your own face? my feeces faeces is that how you spell itshit? feces faeces myface you ass feces the face . Captured plane heart .. not that's something else       Her asscrack speaks volumes to the finger in the ass. Digging in there you come upon cloaca ~ that delicate floral of the Anus! O sweet perjured anus! everyone says youre an asshole. but, what would they become without your yearning darling release complete without buttocks?

----------------------------- Two and Two make a rock song        ~.


the butterfly looks green and so does your body come 
there before dinner working the rounded end lips of your hope.
and love. near to the n

N ? what's that super symbol? or supreme clouds 
lingering come on now you can do better than that.

she's holding a nosegay. not quartered or nailed by the
fife and gift but charmed by wishing bones and a relic 
twisting on the honk and over the highway it's a respite
a trespass to other public giving and

forgiven by traceries and bon-bons the gewgaws
and running gifts open a fair magic box O not this steed
but a woken 

Woken? yes. the first thimble of history and

that's all she holds close to the nape. O come on! she's got more
saying than that dont she? a black word pell-mell running outside and
in not a trope but a narrative barrier cussed by thought's capital
runnel . Rain and the gypsy thought. Pellucid pucker. There's no

thought like the tavern formal patterns and the youthful body 
walking along keeping rhythm bobbing and walking that's why
I love her. She's a camel. no a fir tree, a giraffe . An ostrich.

her ass crack's open. floods of gate to . the beckoning of shit and sea.
Shit is sea before T. She hit the S. She hit S. and  'it' came raining .
Down along the clove and bearing ring. What bearing ring? You don't 
mean bearing you . Liar. Not a contiguity but a broken theme  there.

She's ugly as a Scheherazade. Completely keeping foul story and metaphor.
A vehicle for transporting pane and stretch black pants. Come on! delay it

high fidelity. Shes so ugly it cries.

Vascular  and getting the trumpet going . Where does a sentence start.

Art the begining of cooking and time.  Raw as beat onions. Ins and outs.
Clocks and watches.  Misses her hep adolescent ass. Wears jeans to back
throw its glance in the ball bearings  of chronos. But chronos is time.
Time is space with a given weed. Yer not making senses. I dont prophets
generally don't hover . Hover? Make money as ugly ones. What about Mona

Jill tallies the fourth. Glancing at the be
and  flower
husked by  pain and rain

and deep breath    ~ .



re: Her red harmen,a comm- unist harem .

Her red harmen,a comm-unist harem .
                                                 a red hamram a forest of ? details and eyes a bleeding throughout history. its roughest toughest squad.

------------------------- Find -------------------------

---------------------------------------PostAge RequiRed?? ask yerself . Does abutton button itself?

i dont see anything there but a fake smile with cheeks and a wide smile like faye dunaway

what is she  doing sitting there with Mister Tatoo and don't tell me Mister Tatoo is not

wearing a sign of violence. She sits on her hands. Slightly cold. I don't believe she's

with. Not with.

The vanity of ecstasy is not . The vanity of stats  .



------------------------------------------------------Posting required_______________________________________________________________________

Mona  has her pants on backwards. its theway of the sun and other thunder. not the making of spic and span
but the wonders of

tobacco and other skirts
and this way her boots shine ganders? Appollo and the rambunctious nuts  bury that bury their hold on ? parry four shifts  

waiting for the English accent accident  alean over vowel and knock knock kncok crries the wood the worsted wool

bussing burying burr brrrr winter's huddle cold and the infinite  something something cold
that worries its vendors keeping their bay     Does the  Spy camera work? O that accent is so slippy-slidy    ~ hOW That

accent pulls pulls me down into her thighs sliding down into the whirl of its sensual beauty and craven wanting hunger 'even

the reception' my phOWN phonetic split of goodbye lover how it involves you like an English accent O yeah pulling one in the

London british goodbye bytes to the river Thames    ~  o Thane of Cawdor

No one builds like you  . And the 'foregin' florn gullies say .  this is Mona's chance bacon  beckoning beacon and. the

alliterative stances    ~ .

aND THE self-consciousness wears like a worthy scurver. Surveryller? is that she word. Come to say Humpt-Dumpty! and the

monster combines. like a cement truck, no, a cement truck turgid rutted the spring load. Load! now there's a dirty word,

laughter. Hers echoed in mine ear, the porch of    ~ says shakespeare, webster, daniel, the white devil  the white dog's

breast look at these super bodies healthy as the strain of its wearing straning at the leash of the bdoy~ plucked by the

stream and bothered by its end . Limit. And what sign is that wears its only flesh? Not so , a  nun .

everyone knows this vitality comes from Elsehwere. Elsehwere is nowwhere not Nowhere but somewhere off as  no like Elsinore

whence the Dane d.n.a.

As it turns out the smoke (smile) was thick. Piston possibly 'too thick' . Period after    ` . Period sentence . A period

sentence was no good . Laughing like Bess that similar sort of hehehe with an up note at the end which i dont know how to do

how to make a million bucks sitting in a cafe and one disfounded distanciated by the gods of

Go to england Do not Pass Go you forgot it    ~ . it's her . Jewish accent laughter ? blonde hair frizzy on the two toned of

give and take?

Come again we'll see     ~
We will .ve slid.

air to breath errtobreath

football not soccer javelin? line ligne

hahhahahehehehe again that he I cant catchcapture? she's ringnose tiny discret disscretion. Mona's forte. there again. again

there that . walk? saunter to rue its belle belief.

wan a  lover
wants  a lover?
she's rippled the end the end? what talk you whence its bending leaf  .

And what about the scenery ? I think there's nothing worse than a March.

But the March of times. Ah, the garbbage picker     .  O look at them there cloudcrowds crowned by dollar andcent. would

dollar and cent
And the crowd?

Think of Cassius and the poet    ~ Ore is that Oarpheus oar your boat gently Orpheus headsad to Sappho and the buckweeds the

scrurry .

the menwomen in darkglassed vests appear walk as cutting machine. Not a desire machine workingas it breaks bearing leaves






fey \FAY\, adjective:
1. Possessing or displaying a strange and otherworldly aspect or quality; magical or fairylike; elfin.
2. Having power to see into the future; visionary; clairvoyant.
3. Appearing slightly crazy, as if under a spell; touched.
4. (Scots.) Fated to die; doomed.
5. (Scots.) Marked by a sense of approaching death.
. . .the former a gang of dangerous delinquents, fearless, macho, vulgar . . ., the latter a group of mischievous schoolboys, whimsical, fey, sophisticated and daringly experimental.
-- Sean Kelly, "What Did You Expect, the Spanish Inquisition?", New York Times, July 25, 1999
Beneath a fey manner, his mother was highly competitive.
-- Evan Thomas, The Very Best Men
Leo, suddenly fey, sports a rhinestone ascot and black velvet waistcoat, homburg and walking stick.
-- Edward Karam, "Fast and louche", Times, March 29, 2001
Fey comes from Middle English feyefeie, from Old English fæge, "fated to die."



Re: everyone knows this is your name

go back dictionary re to write and run to sit? she's a cavern dweller?  It's damp there as all woman's ears are   ~. HER Hand's damp henna attracts me She's V for various and vagina cling opening to glance rear to end of time? her hand's wet-moist flicking change. makes the thing work?  a glorious titilation of her becomings and neither night nor day will do.


now dude what was that about
'crawled garden' and lovers is that verse a curse along the haunted man and her thighs
the wended thing that crams nouns against subjects and rigid lover of silent?

Or the Ughliosa and Anti meeting D Milne where you was the shipper of Christ along with the long mathematician
of 15 dimensions ______________________ O pragmanticist!

----------------------what is your romance but pragmatics? are the overachiever of underachieve? leave these capital terms. theres's a becoming to take, Right Mona?

A Grub Street Hack||manifesto — The Method of Drammatization. Gilles Deleuze. Paper presented to the Société française de Philosophie, 28 January 1967.

A Grub Street Hack||manifesto — The Method of Drammatization. Gilles Deleuze. Paper presented to the Société française de Philosophie, 28 January 1967.

everyone knows this is your name

this way the sea knows your name surf splashes against the
black background of your thighs~over the night ringing louder  

it's not clamour that makes us being but being a rumour unexpected
with the night and her simple things parities of which only you

know the rumour ~ I repeat myself your rumour comes home to roost and
bending by the waves of an antique word a style rested by comeuppance more
than anything you undress requiring newts, nets, frog-bites, nesting between
his only thighs and a bear's rest the barest rest this could be what it's meant
to suggest signify carrying presents to your first hip the hourglass of reminders
and stranger who bears a result toward bliss and every nothing restituting 
each permanent thought and each glance that marries its thing

recruiting is not the same
everyone knows this name

everyone knows its here and there two toned to the bridge and my sighing 
close to your need sight-seeing 
your need sighing close
 to soughing over  hushing and

preparing bridges  come by nights and other wonderful
in french english in your heart 
lover not this way to forgot a special
space requisite to love's


Hear ye hear ye~ not an exclamation point but a bell ringing


How many longings in
how many hearts?

it may be that the only 
way to contact (some) people is to hit them. I mean life
hits them  ,   hits us , a t the center of our being    ~. What
happens to the becoming between? life and death breath and the
whole nine yards. Of darning wool, and other dreams we put off  .


 Well, it's a goddam prison and I am moving out.
Moving out of what ? of the negative of being and nothing-
ness. is that a comma or a hypen Mister duffy? and how 
come , what's  with the lower case D? Mister god with a big D 
as in your book? Is that it? is that what she said?

She said she said I am red, red, red. Deader than red. And I am
not the inquisition I am the speech which is free. And I'd love
to dance with you? Can you do the North American dance  ( Love to
boogie ) across the Atlantic? do you remember what it was like when you young? Hurtling
across the seven continents?

Love is a continent . Hurtling across the love sheets    ~. and
bearing gifts hither and yond   ~ .

The woman's thighs are thick and sexy full of life. the Power
of and the vibrations of life. Full of the sentinent being. and
she cries every night for her, her red hair . Her red harmen,a comm-
unist harem .





 you ask whether the page begins or ends
   where the page ends

if that was a poem would it be your name ?
it would
if that was a  poem it would be
 your name     ~ .

holding your hand between    ~

holding her hand between leggings and love's long lust dog
a page brilliant as anything might be by health abundance clarity
and its other things as sharing knows better than seeing and love's
bucket drips with the foolish welt? O welt! O wilt! O!

especially by everything that's held cash not an error but a 
voluptuous seeing

notepad lover don't you see there's nothing to escape
the knight is donned in her clothshield bearing the arms
of love and trouble? she's worn every suit possible her
accent is not false but her love is possible and each wheel
covers the other concealing the winningnumber. Is that your life? where are you       text come home  remain to
sender holder of preposition



                                                 my crystal ball

 But who knows?
What I’m doing with

my life
I' m counting on you honey. You're a lover wanting the big thing, the unruly moment.

Something strange that brings you together with me inevitably. Like a lover does, with her mouth and charms, and those paradoxial belles jours longing between both.

Okay, you're a writer like me and you've lived, or live, near abysses, precipices, and you've come round. Here, like anywhere else. A friend who's called a lover. A sack of gold between the sheets, a ribbon for your cake.

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Looking around in an open fashion some days, and at other times I am more clandestine.

between entre.. les devenirs... becomings

Having travelled half way round the world and seen a lot of cities
I 'd like to find a perch?
hang off a tree
peer out of your window
"I’m really good at"

"The first things people usually notice about me"

O let's say the first thing they notice about me is You.

"My favorite books, movies, music, and food"

for now:
... authors:Shakespeare, Tristan Tzara, James Joyce Deleuze and Guattari/ Mozart Stravinsky now the list could go on. We both know that. You're eclectic.
The six things I could never do without

la poésie
"I spend a lot of time thinking about"
"Why I don't care much for politics" but still read the Huffington post

How it is people keep lying.
"On a typical Friday night I am"
really wonderin how these boxy things work.. its quite amusing
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
"O come on now "

Okie dokie: adding things

the secret of your beauty
I’m looking for

"Located anywhere"
Who are single"

".... message me if"
say you are rich and I am Henry Miller,
or say you are wealthy and Im not Miller, or combinations of any number rather bohemian luxuries of that sort.
if you're bold,
and lean left while looking right

 you are made of spiders and fibrillating weaves
  Or if you are poor
      or middle class

and outside of the box

If you're moved to~
you have a telephone
a radio
a shoe
a terrace
book of poems

something else


if you like

             Why I don't care much for politics but still read the ....                post.

'...  people keep lying.'  '... I know if you lie it's for a cause that remains mysterious to me, and perhaps obscures a superficial fact.

"I wonder how you are and how we'd connect." That each delicate step between us is a charm of love, a play of desire.
"Message me"  or rather I'll rather I'll message you between the lines. 
Did you come here to live in a box, a strata?
Here's a story:

start again hold the page
   come the rage
    be my friend
  my only
   between this place and yours
      of  you and me
         of you and I

       style again
     hold your horses
      there's a man underneath these pages
     who never left you
   a l  w  a   y    s

   life  went  on
    it   w   a   s    h             a   r   d
    hard  as my me for you

                              holding you