meditation II (WORKSHOP w/ sound)

            the sound of A_B_C_D
there's arushingno i s e which g  et  s  f    a     r         a               w                a            y

nothing so far is clear
poetry still just a pretty

nothing still clear           though
            elemental & breaking w/ 
            light nothing

poetry                            still trying
            to sell
            me something

o? roses are unbelievably trite (
buy them) by the bushel. o.

"now something latin must be romantic
            triple piano bullets
"now something let in must be romantic
            voice fade @ every syllable
            liquids don't do anything but pour
            music useless winter sweat

can't go on in this art school way
so i fall in love
            in it
like i owe a blowie but can't stretch my mouth far enough & there's this raw sore near my bottom left canine & he says go for it in a way that used to be erotic but which now just smells like a fresh mown lawn

& my pen just
keeps moving
along an axis
to a terminus
dropping off
in a dam
no chance
@ reproduction
the next line
is unique

(i thought too much about
about making

meaning poetry

a cart of those reeking stinking fleshy roses
squeeeezzzzing them to make perfume)

nothing drips
             from A_B_C_D
& the relationship blossoms

like from wet broken veld

             thunderhead snaps violent
boring romance             wet
everything wet
             drenched in reverb

the room shuffles

i fail to look up