S.B.T. 234

etching, the unborn

gowl, it suddenly dawned on the
creepy yellow sopa steam smelt
aching teeth ropeburned sholder
shriek spectre
aluminum smolder
ii cant even look at the words getting typed
for such gnossy slime has settled beneath
naw, right on the crust

fdrather
climb the lithograph boulder

S.B.T. 233

on cue jacqueline sprang and caught the trapeze

and the bear with the sequin hat,
might have bongd if she missed it
..timing is everthing with melodich muscles in sync
we dressed as gypsies were dancing at the circus when someone
the magician told us wear the masque will keep the tigers calm
i know i know where now now there there all right
the masque the magician told us will keep the tigers calm

S.B.T. 232

(inside in a painting of)

a beach day (sand in my shoes) w/clouds that pink soft gauze

manilla and blue loop over the jetties, a cloth

floated on the horizon barely long and sort of

window with whitecaps beyond

dont know where the flag went

twas just not there officer

the eclipse of the boy figure in silhouette

by diamond ring effect

S.B.T. 231

for elsa the feral queen who ruled the shelter

you looked at me the night before

when i spoke to you. 

something in your eyes beyond, 

the name i'd given you

and feasted with gusto

as you always did

except when your babies

left home.

for four days you were on a hunger strike

john and i had to pry you out from under the stairs

and force you to drink water

with a dropper

and you so terribly confused

and i was clueless

but when you finally ate i promised you

another chance and this time

you could keep them

and we would keep you all

for the heart of a mother

elsa was.

elsa died in her sleep,

curled paw, and eyes closed,

Feb. 2, 2010 age approx 10 years 

S.B.T. 230

the lite-flex spinning wheel infomercial

to thread the needle remember the opposite direction is halfway true by reverse in a lean stripe

there is no room for excess beyond exactitude or excuse

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

for the lovely crepe d'chine

monogrammed scarf, 
thanx

S.B.T. 93

"We can afford to blow off the jobs asking for an advertisers oilyrainbow ballad or some skinny chrome shine hit with no need to hurry or wait for the moment the gears would spin." That statement startled the staff, everyone searching for someones eyes to steady on, since the first big song sidestepped turned round and jjitterbugged to the center spotlight. It created a kind of success that requires bulky rockabilly costume trunks postmarked with ascetic history stamps. Just a few fridays before when we realized it didnt matter, it was not w/o ennui.

"dam tricky timing" she had to rephrase the lyrics once more again to some 16th notes just pissed (just a chance to see the sky somewhere w/o the cracked window and relentless engine of silence intruding on the ear.

how presumptuous she spit out the back "chew us"
'why bother 2 change this bit on the 16th bar? just cuz hambone can't reach his note fuggettit'
slam, a flat chop on the file cabinet, mmm hmmm hmmm, she started humming. with a velvet pine resin and capo cloth started polishing the luminous surface of the cameo locket i wore around my neck.

from the tinroof brick garret top the old textile mill we couldnt have predicted this diamatrix living those years luminously wickered from swollen summer so deep o into old brother winter wearing white with beaded snowmen. decking out with march hare and leprechauns in may...

(once uponatime she could stroll down 2nd avenue and not find a rainquote gently laid on a mud puddle 4a ladys white pumps 2 glide over) the waves and gestures of pride tipping hats blowing kisses. smiles with slow melting glacial weariness slickd in the sweaty corners. to repeat it so   often repeat it so   often it was no   not that again   back in 88 if i hadnt done that television interview i said yes eyes watering a balloon rising and inside of it a picture of a yacht in full sail billowing on a blue sea with sunlight melting butter over popcornclouds) tell it like it was she sighed.
"now is the last thing i ever first wanted" the thoughts circling her head vibrate like cello strings in remote attendance to the siren of a medic van in traffic. A few rooms away some heavy heeled New Orleans charleston slide from ear to ear. thumpthump fiddleplex contradance audition. and in her headphones voices insinuate lyric for a tragicomedy of error theme as it slips beneath the shallows of a blue lagoon. proud and trusting in knowing the way to hunt and gather unknowable risk in realtime space because .thats how it is, we carry on

the studio tablature of speaking in 'how things are' is the basic language of creation. clearly the next idea will be better than before is a motto  “You are” "I am" “That is a” it would coincide with one or another calligraphic sweep scribbled with strikethrough. in comic relief what she always said "it would have occurred if it hadnt been so cursed or was it cured

all the while we are walking in a landscape christo-draped w/gauze tenderly plucking non-pythagorean notes whirling into orbits turning mobius melodies inside out.

first written 11/08/08 - rewrkd now

S.B.T. 229

the dancer 2

over fate not spent 

labor and loot, lumber

not desiring a previous days modesty
the dancer leaps 

in peace of morning measures

the mask of time intrudes
toward future replacements.

minus startle stun or soothe

en pointe through thunder

heart stamp, stone, of solace 

and birdcalls 
waving young rope

the body cage has no walls

alive dimension to disappear

and fall into the rough linen

turtle bootstrap deserter

strain the ear to attend

listen

suspense 

to make man from music

S.B.T. 228

i have to skip over the posts between 128 and 228
remarkable the exact number of missing psts is onehundred
______________________________________________

an hourglass sifts time behind my eyes
i hear my own hearts thin glass
a prism or two leaks harmonica
through the empty shadow
i hear your smile crinkle stretch
i laugh as we make plans
without knowing
how i ever would
fulfill them