In the River Ouse

[jeff harrison]

Mount Vernon
fig tree placed thereof
was Himself to call the Summer
for a final assault
_____________________________

a nemesis guise of emulation
wilderness driven by design, a
white breathless destination
the first two deeds (read "lines")
still possible for bloodless phobia
books quite subtle dedicated to
overripe summation (read "lines"
______________________________

     part, the
     Paris, and
     proportions
______________________________

     anecdotal
     richer ground
     Richard Brown
     pronounce poem
     incidental
_____________________________

spatchcock Melymbrosia,
with your heft & shave,
where would you prefer to hang your hat -
Herrenchiemsee,
or Versailles?
______________________________

Should Tannhauser ever fall
into the arms of his mortal love,
he would no doubt see, and soon,
she is no Venus. Still, in Heaven,
are there dice-matches still,
and, still, games of chance
______________________________

     Dear Nature,
     Thank you for not killing me today.
     Best,
     Abe Lincoln
______________________________

unburied,
& such things add to deep bays
______________________________

     lamplight
     the town
     lowering
     to light it
     the mouth
     long nailed
     them tight -
     light to be
     as quiet
     long ago
_____________________________

the meekness overscaled
shrewd estrangement
purge that expediency to sweeten
a rose from any other British port
_____________________________

O my stars, shall the dust prose you? Are etceteras nothing?
_____________________________

     roses were
     with pink
     thrift and morning
_____________________________

     the air with
     hands tight
     with dust
_____________________________

     a pocket and
     away - for the
     name of your
     upturned face
_____________________________

     bass-viol, and
     bass-viol. Folk.
_____________________________

verso versipelles,
you turncoat mammal.
writing and rewriting
your dead pelt,
penivorous animal!
beast who swallows its own tale,
figure by which you figure,
mustering piece by piece
your fugitive assent!
_____________________________

     dead un-
     done, and
     softly as
     our stop
_____________________________

dynamite twice
flashing in pantomime,
that's the clamor you
don't need to choose
_____________________________


whom aural tables for these
_____________________________

conversation
off one measurable dance
_____________________________

slink into ponderable hope
_____________________________

futile ivory
_____________________________

verdigris
disobeyed & microscopic
_____________________________

away -
distinguished from me
_____________________________

interrupted
coincided
had sown
_____________________________

white
vagaries
_____________________________

word now
microscopic
_____________________________

"Word Now
Microscopic,
Cease From
The Seine"
_____________________________

to see an air of how always
_____________________________

secrecy
ran the whole constricted
boar
_____________________________

honey
or three
_____________________________

spied paint-
wasted
_____________________________

private lives
torn down (their
scabs a picture)
_____________________________

dust grew
a focus
_____________________________

pitiable
as a pane
____________________________

sweet dreams, famished fox
____________________________

back
clung to rival
visible
____________________________

sleep -
for this time a thief
bound to his fists
____________________________

a thief's throw
readjusted
under his sheets
____________________________

picture a pled & recorded tangle
____________________________

growl a white havoc,
sailing ship!
____________________________

tea leaves
in the days of ventriloquial
bruises, so much my way to
run the air...
____________________________

the dirt in the dark
fused to remittance
____________________________

our eyes hanging in coppery hair, by and by
____________________________

wag as if unaccompanied,
their drag a lithe perpetual
____________________________

plop before the anvil:
rustiness turned to satisfaction
____________________________

I was spiked with
a gnarl and the sun is Your Honor
____________________________

coy the clock her life a spring
____________________________

Reykjavik! Reykjavik! SPORTS JACKET!
____________________________

hare and mare
are the entire sea
& when the entire sea
pleads for his life
hare and mare are
English speaking

___________________________


a Portuguese capacity
has the capacity
for being Portuguese, at least

___________________________


modesty,
obviously,
will end with a curtain

___________________________


the Second Act
climbs onto the City Clerk

___________________________


the Theatre
ought not to be afraid
to show her legs

___________________________


am I to conclude
the depths
are only for simple things?

___________________________


she married
your praises

___________________________


the orchestra
making the main
square in his hair

___________________________


How Nature Can Close Ranks! Snip! Snap!

___________________________


the atrocious
are putting on a show
just for you! - even if
a million miles away
& they don't care to know
your name! when you're
moral,
though, you are only
entertaining yourself

___________________________


my suggestion
is licensed to do
what you're so eager for

___________________________


the weather,
my dear friend,
is trying to hand us a line

___________________________


the newborn paws
in the heat of my violin case

___________________________


how do you
want the staircase
to be rebuilt?

___________________________


have my people feel like sleeping

___________________________


cooks are
less fragile
ink bottles

___________________________


we need a horse
to make a fire with

___________________________


one's coffin
again recurring
a sick man has
gratuitous unity

___________________________


The Crystal Tower In New York

___________________________


coteries exclude
because they have trust issues

___________________________


the awful thing
tells me a star
is called a mountain

___________________________


repugnant farmhands
live in your apartment

___________________________


a  mysterious  snowing
  (marvelous?)
broke into
conversations

__________________________


        dust
        detail

__________________________


        a lump
        sticking out
        of the two

__________________________


        the house
        would be so
        white

__________________________


very friendly and pretty
piece of shit

__________________________


the bunnies
seemed only fair

__________________________


tone of voice
cry at the top
of black

__________________________


my knee
beheld
their eyebrows spectacular

__________________________


the ball
with milk
twenty minutes later

__________________________


        nice things
        in Arabic

__________________________


dirty knees
when she was fourteen

__________________________


Art & junk-dreams
spoiled the poor fellow

__________________________


goodnight kisses
against her cheekbone

__________________________


        your friends
        are enough
        company

__________________________


        the matches
        had pulled
        her eyebrows

__________________________


        a good joke
        is walking about

__________________________


		
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