Angelus irreverent, honeysuckle,
I get stuck
I'll be the one
I'll be a birdhouse
Introduce plastic competition for habit and habitat
Into your environment
The best thing is
You won't remember any of it
Slips out from that pure past
Sleep paralysis present just
Pressing from the back
Incontestable
Interstitial
Space feeder in the
Morning ampersand
Can flood the gaps
Negation smacks of
Paranoiac stammers run the traces through your hands
Habitus
Intensified to
Paranoiac stammers
Tracing sand-lines in your hands

Framework

Morning Ampersand

Marriage Material

Blood of the Country

Riddling

Nothing There

Children

The Devils Want More Indulgent Dirges

Is this home always sits indoors, is that the same thing? Swear I saw you before, don't tell me. Don't worry, won't be ashamed no more. Guess we all get hit. What to sit here for, Stegner-American span, Kerouac-American expanse, sitting around waiting for that American Hand. Dream of cancer in the evening, growing up your spine. You want it gone, well you can suck it just take me out, down. How could you talk me down? Face all plump with allergic puff. Skin all leathered, hide gets tough. My gramma talks in knotted cords. I'm a tied-up bull, translucent bones under carrion crows. (Suppose I saw you somewhere before.) To look forward to l'intrus, it's all I can. Sanctus sanctus panegyric, what's that elegy? We walk in parallel hues. Body blooms in this earth. I see you. My room is open, arid. I emerged from a barren womb, did I ever tell you? I see no miracle in that, being new. I see no magic in the moon. Sorry sister, sorry all you. So green, we're still just shoots. Water balloons. Leather stretch _ skin stretch loop abdomen hoop. No nervous step in the hooves. No nerves frayed in these hooves. Booted up and slip lace through. I'm a skin-sore mule.

L'Intrus

revel in dark barns

if it's not interrogative it's not for me

Robert Henry