Thursday, December 29, 2005

Kyle Kaufman

but what, and going where?

opens a book unbound.

…if she is a woman, she’s a young one: 19, second term. a little late to bloom
(high school being what it will), unreal. her promise is tight: t-shirt, jeans, one or
two other imagined things.

And now professors find themselves at dingy dives w/ cell phones set to vibrate
recording ex-wives calls suspicious and paying for more strong tonics still
drinking her and dreading the dean. The young men’s eyes watch with – let the
guy by the bar decide – humor and disgust and the band strikes up another song
when he was sure they would at last leave the damn stage – what time is it
anyway? Surrounded by vipers and traps.

the words themselves, even. no bite,
pulped flat, more on than in.
in what? paper’s just an option, an after the fact
in the musee-umm. but an aura is also a force of life,
and the computer screen hates me.


move along moves along

d u s t
m o t e s

lead a

some HAL clips the cord and a Frank goes cartwheeling past Ceres
third-cousin’s half son by a minor collison

the blindspot of a moving car
m o t i n g


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