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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Monday, October 31, 2005

Body of Work

at the table my work
spelled out by santeria
this emptied vessel
sitting together darkly
for the eternal word
is theatre of knitting
and my patience draws
drugs of engagement
on the broad white lines
how many have to die
moving in style of informants
of history book feuds
in italian mercy missions
someone writes this down

Friday, October 28, 2005

Stranger Danger

times like a mouse
these are unitimidated searches
i could leave this to memory
but then resolution makes
better mythologies of place
so the taste of lime & mint
eliminate as tenses hide
out of costume
for the fin de seicle
i use my foreign tongues
as gestures of good will
slapped into cubist monolgues
i receive this call:
earth to humble narrator

Friday, October 21, 2005

Crash

resistance of first light
ready as able is
peace placing peices
closed-eye procedures
sleep is in the details
comes monkeying at you
out of white flags
erupting like stomachs
i stand on firing lines
changes to that guy
where paper closes
on arguments in common
conjuate how ever you like
these extra syllables
will keep you alive

Thursday, October 13, 2005

This Wont Hurt

some undead are shaking
fallen along fault lines
these townships of relaxation
heal the pyrotechnicians
as my migration walks
on no good sea legs
to this last humility
preys the initial obsession
amusement must come
in form of the third I
this is submerged with
historical folk personas
the note at the end
so late in my career

Friday, October 07, 2005

Looking For Louis

blonde junkie inquiries
streetside party errupts
or isn't it the end of the song?
come this here june
busted in the very autumn
they're real and fabulous
in discussions popped once
or twice into this diction
of schoolmarms and little
helpers at the bottom of the purse
what a drag on the thought
leave the pickup behind
all you have to say is
all over his shoes

Thursday, October 06, 2005

And Pasta Made Man and Saw That it Was Good

satellites of at home shopping
lost in the hustle
this drift of unkept temper
all lipstick on the pig
whose uterus is sold
to promising book burners
the night they saw spaghetti aliens
create an earth just like them
according to Dover, PA
rules of our children
minds to who wins history
slaughered by their steel
blown up like that elephant
no good christian talks about