tender

There is tender even tender manners
which bedoses on time
under the heading of light.

Today the bells are the ringing in the lots,
the people, all me at squirming in the cars,
are holding chestcones to their laps.

Whatever I recognize now will tenfold.
Sweeping pines'll talk me
among rumors in the roots.

The diligent flycatchers will my head.
Somewhere rest on the hawk will scree
and decipher flight.

Besides my tired made of chemistry
on the children, alleviate carpet to
their toxic sneakers.

Inside their soft mouths, meanness rolls
like candy. They do not tolerate
the new boy. He is smart but wants acceptance.

I have to keep them inside my beings
grow ten feet quiet sounds and shower loud
down on them, but they are impervious.

A drill will covet to be pulled
from all the matter a hole.
Waste will kill a circle back.

A black abdomens bug is the stink bug,
an upturned patrolling the summer grounds
and threatening.

A coast live oak extends dark encircling them
grown hard over wide leaving waves
long arms of dry leaves.

At the spot I sit is wordless coming
to wait over mount baldy silence
for the spill to open its voice,

if in the beginning I was tearing lightly
the wind seemed to say through the palms
the ivy is a pool,

and when I mastered the pluck a tomato
I moved its wave form from
the hairy yellow flower stalk with the poison,

and when I came up the town through the riverbed
across giant boulders slept silence
and we eating engulfed what we grew.

In the heat comes burn hands a boiling
blankness with clear surface to
a speed, and eyes with it.

My slip comes without siphon
the penetrating light seeking spread water
silhouettes peeled from earth.

A trench has inside it water
over the cantalope
and carries mud dug to a plump maker.

She durables on star
and wears of gibber
her forehead with a handmade sack.

It lies lovely above her eyes
dangling her vision strawberries to her eyebrows
and swelling across the size of a land.

It smells sharpened garlic
under the bushes and plates of turnip rubbing.
It smells of hands mixed some with water.

Inside a small harp is beating Sappho's tunic.
She holds it and like
a dove swims along the shore.

When it rises far out to sea to follow the plucking
she endeavors the height of her chest
to seize the wave's motion.

Inside her wave shell pull a fish
across love as a vast cup
to form the ear.

What can it tell us of earth
is made except the mouth of grain
and the taste tingles,

the ear is bled to pull
of its supper a house fly
and tries into its understanding,

a mate whistles in teal
his long device to shatter buildings
and drive wilderness across the city,

a scrub jay teeters to an opus branch
and trains call over quick on a bare
while unheard bells is building a fire by hand.

Such are the lists that to come to terms
the cells to succumb to.
The pinch of her mien could move forever.

Along of this mentality I fell of sunlight
into silence the shower and listened
for a moment to pierce my chest.

Thus ushered in liquid by sand is the
pesticide. The still buzz taken but
not returned the energy of electricity.

Ask for the rotten peels in any product
and the forgiveness packages sent to landfill.
Take less pride.

Before spending, call to comfort
waists pressed against you while
the time in the bedcase afghan.

Before home earth take
out of your hands sight flies above you,
and wear a face into earth's like face.

A small result in a cup will yield.
A crop held buys a great
thirst and the penny decreases.

When you swallow the great flat
don't forget the south yearn to rise
in our hair mists where california.

The little shooting at the dunes floats damage
toward sea lavendar and the range
causes a small fire on kisses.

We have the phone and wait for the arguments
submitted to our ripe news be delivered on
the middle of the wilderness that

such is this our age and the fantasm of affair with
black teeth beyond long petrol spit.
I move into relation.

Breathing out of the ground
small carbohydrates hampers divide fats.
The tubers becomes anew and grow,

a wing buzzes quick
the hummingbird turns on a
specially high branch,

the purple constellation
in bumble bee of daisies
at the honey bee edge of the hillock,

the gritty earth of farms before taking
a while in the cactus between
spinning out the web,

a sundered remains of our materials
returns to the spilled waste
and sups on the dance of elements.

I take tap water back I carry it
again and fill it with me
and try to sip with no bottle

the luxurient aquifers buried under
and acorn squash and
headrush seeds.