paradelle

love is a complicated multi-turret system
love is a complicated multi-turret system
i'm sugar coated & there is a pistol
i'm sugar coated & there is a pistol
a multi-turret pistol is sugar coated
& i'm there, a system, complicated is love

you're my pert devastation
you're my pert devastation
but lamination can only save the faithful
but lamination can only save the faithful
only my pert lamination can save
you're devastation the faithful but

that's a lot of ammunition, i say as i stoop into my plot
that's a lot of ammunition, i say as i stoop into my plot
i will wrap them as gifts but not cruelly
i will wrap them as gifts but not cruelly
i plot ammunition as gifts a lot, but that's, as i say
stoop not cruelly, i will of them into my wrap

my pistol is complicated devastation
but you're only a multi-turret that's
love is a system can save gifts
but cruelly i'm sugar coated lot & a lamination
i stoop of ammunition into the faithful
i will say wrap them there as pert i, not as my plot

fresh air redux: i look like a quarry someone has dynamited!

3

summer in the alleyways! "it is time to strangle several bad poets."
the yellow cab rocks to and fro, and from the roof
drops charles bronson! the stylish thugs are slightly agitated by the struggle,
but afterwards, beside the dead "poet" they cuddle comfortingly against their ipods.
they are safer now, no one will compare them to a poetic device.

here on the bus, one more time, is charles bronson.
he is going to get that one on his way to a poetry reading.
ouch! smack! a body crumples between stops.

in the "dive bar" i also see charles bronson,
he leaps through the chill air at the maker of comparisons
between language and life and silently, silently strangles him!

here is charles bronson dressed as a loan shark
leaping from his cadillac to annihilate the students of linguistics!

charles bronson is alert for academic maunderings like "otherness",
"ambiguity", "narrative antagonism", and "avant garde",
and for poems addressed to ron silliman, billy collins,
to charles bernstein, and to personages no longer living
even in anyone's thoughts—o charles bronson the charles bronson!

he lies on his back in with a pistol he snatched from a thug.