Garment District Cadillac

Get dressed. Casual and restless. Get to the duress already. Get dresses. Get money. Ghetto money. Note money. Bank note money. Don't be dumb. Don't beat 'em. But if you can't join 'em, beat 'em. Be dumb with me. Be hung as the arabesque on pleasure (guest in the air), on the pleasure dome, mumble (olive in your mouth like home, I love you) All of you casual dressing ghetto money lavish backlashing shins in the dream of a china factory rattled by the hope of disaster; that would be better than sitting here inventing zippers for the denim, for the dumbed-down denim clear in the market hung from the parkbench suggesting a crime or a medicine, guest in the time between leisure grass and habit grass and grasp and grasp and grasp The west at last is empty, listless, and needs a passenger from the jury, and I am volunteering as the words ask the wars to steer them , unstart them who I am volunteering, do let them begin who I am volunteering, dont let them begin who I am in the simple volume of where I am, high


up on a tantrum (maintenance) about anyone fancy or plain as he is spitting out olives and sunflower seed bits in the street,(my fingers pinch the windowpane as I watch, listless) one hand on his pants so they don't drop A champion, a proper champion living out his uniform like it's a house

My New Favorite Increment (Anatomy of a Waltz)

There are sparrows in my dare, my dear, with the folk caress of jinxes (courage) in the imprint of a pair of looking-jokes, where the echo slow repeats, if we hurry, if we were her, every word, most of us will be there when he carelessly measures the distance between a hint and the whole hinterland, whole manner of having been there will be between panic and ain't it funny how the prayer in flight mid falling

Venue, Venu, Then You

Everyday we went to this palace; they let us use a place

What's Really Food

Cakewalks

Prizes as prices

Venus in First

Merci: Appreciation Suite

Thank you for ruining the difference between secrets and lies

Though I guess we don't have to have tradition if we can somehow free ourselves from our memories,
I want something that I do not yet know
And the minute I like it, I will discard it

(Note the trade in tradition, note the crossing over as a form of forgiveness, in advance, for any dislocated art reshaped by prayer or by indifference, neither ugly enough nor beautiful enough to be a topic, yet still a tradition)
Through which we've become tourists
estranged from ourselves with no glory, but no remorse, It is for the sake of the imagination's
mercilessly misguided mercy
That I cant tell anybody; How to look or how to listen (new)
I certainly can't tell them what to remember (all the things you are)
Particularly when I want to forget everything myself
So that no two coca cola bottles are ever the same
So that I do not sip from them with casual relief
So that recognition is extinct; I do not recognize you
So that I do not behave for a groove where there is a ridge
Remembering becomes unoriginal, an unrooting, not up
Not something to be held, like a manufacturer's inventory or my reborn–desire to be held

So I forget about you every moment and every moment I know you, better, as with love
as with battle, as the bottle, followed into a fountain,
or an orphan's mispronounced crown/names

You punch me in the face and blue flowers bloom
That's what happens, like the martyr in any brand of christ, in order to disappear it has to happen, so it is not bad

Thank you for discovering the difference between existing and happening

Reverse Pattern of Yesterday

Steve Reich - It's Gonna Rain - Part 1
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The Great Integrity/Seclusion

There can be different distances

Circle in the Round/Two Buicks

You're confusing tyranny with winning.. you mean with losing, you mean too soon to mean you've been waiting which is most like two knees on salted pavement or brass knuckles in mid-delay behind a favorite sun/sung like damn right I'm somebody, confusing rules with rise not up, knot up, not high enough, sideways, the way I ran to him like a chapel bride or like a rival or while every veil has two sides, at least two of every veil are lifting, are ordered to lift while suggestions get mistaken for orders and are given or are imposed and slow down the truth which is so bulky it slices the soul into uses 1. get money.. you mean gambling, you mean an addiction to two plans with one outcome or is it one plan with two outcomes 2. I don't think I heard you right, I'm repeating what you might have said--I listened with my eyes, confusing training with being ready 3. Get ready, I wanna be ready, I think we should be ready 4. Be a man, be a lady, be somebody right, somebody ready.. You mean run, I heard that's how we stay in one place so many times, run 5. We're confusing the premier with the beginning, just run, just be running

S-Ike

On the Shores

Mnemosyne

This Is How We Walk On the Moon

Call it Anything/Triumph

1. The first girls... they can remember, and have the ability of robots. And blurry cottages in the first picture are mosques in the next. Hemlines drop for prayer, for papa, for what is proper in the first picture is not in the next


2. This woman told me she went to visit an old retired bullfighter who raised bulls for the ring

She played the record for him and after it was finished he rose from his chair and went out and fought one of his bulls for the first time since he had retired, and killed the bull. When she asked him why he had done it he said he had been so moved by the music he just had to fight the bull.


They can remember, and have the ability of robots.

That's not just legend

or fat-mouthing

3.Nor did the bull suffer the memory of the first girl, in the arena, that's who she was, torn like a puddle on staggered earth, taurus in the aura of a jumping mirror, sudden glass in the dirt of a misheard treaty, (but they can imagine and have the ability of... ) We hired

dancers, these were fighters, the one difference being the sound they moved to, toward the first, from the first, toward the first. Like they were on tour, like they were onto her, like they truly wanted her

If They get the Right Stage

All the Things you Are

You're beautiful, do rude things to me
You're doing rude things to me–beautiful
You're doing beautiful, root, things to me,
You're rude, do beautiful things to me
Your riddle drew new things to me
Yoruba, puckering crosses on a dubplate
there is no such thing as trusting/you're beautiful
He struck you as no such thing

Eagle on a Dime

There is no such thing as strutting
He trusts you
Enough to wear vests up his angles
Enough to flail and turn figurine
inside a vault; instead of
a l l / o v e r

Rescuing Something