Noun that I've been watching (100)

body.

forward, back
and forth.

allows a visceral hurt
point to benefact
itself apart from
largo factions.

when I dramatize
past tense,
it is for lack
of a known present.

the turning over of one
after another leaf,
in early point of fact,
equals the method
captivating unglued mentality.
an unbrash cornet fastens
its amazed face
on a simple world.

I think the tonguing of a brass
instrument with mute cone
connives a situation
projected on the wide screen
inconveniencing the lived heart
until it loosens the bridle
to release movement.

a frenzy follows; injustice
runs out of sight.
the officer in charge
recites a script.
we listen, and we say,
"this does not sound
like her view"

so is the world
still here, is this
the body that scans
evidence,
being pushed and pulled.
are these those same strings?

Noun that I've been watching (99)

jazz.

violin notes occur. they do not rescue
themselves or anyone who lingers at attention too long,
taking in washing of emoticons,
blaspheming sense perception
like some waylaid belonging.

daylight is a fling that happens
outside of the body
of the being
of the rapture
not a part of the equation.

have I told you lately that I feel left out?

how much you believe is true
is how much becomes true
in the last analysis.

my mountain of the stratosphere compounds
the desecration of your sanctosphere.
I want to daybreak into your determined
wall protecting someone or something
from what I happen to achieve.

at some point I will captivate
the culture in your heart
and marry it to the culture in my heart
and we will agreed nver to die
without desire.

Noun that I've been watching (98)

sleep.

one lifts over the threshold
a deserving mirror,
lightly places it upon
the bed.

good company need not be touched.
good company aspires to hope.
good company is not erotic.

the camera is another posse
felt, enjoyed, retained.
chimera, also. plaintext.

vamonos.

an influenza epidemic will not touch us.
(repeat after me)

the solstice will have come and gone
before you nuzzle up against
the solemn wavelength
of a rugged star.

only miniature flowers qualify
for a pure bouquet
that some of us have pictured
incessantly for the durations
of others' lives.

this is where we find ourselves,
endowed with adjectives,
and loyal to the nouns.

Noun that I've been watching (97)

letter.

form figures punctuation lavish patterned on the page.

grace from one
hand to another
handful of awaiting
prose imposing poem
on poem light.

some of the original prose
depletes itself
on account of
wit and witness.

what shine defaces poverty
offers triple-doses
of contrarian amendments.

being on key resembles
what is re-assembled
in a fog. more mercy
has been blurred within
the garden of dreamed light
festering where heaven
was to have been staged.

building tete-a-tete
indifference now
bracketed by soft truth
barely able to sustain
the givens and the wants
and trains that sort
the divan-prone
from from figured bass.

corrected to fit to-the-letter
saints of grammar
in the garden
of our haste.

one bonds with how it ought to be.
enough again
a golden monument
to taste,
post-haste.

Noun that I've been watching (96)

radio.

91.5 fits through the pores of the two-pound
instrument jostling its referendum
on planned artistry.
Saxophone is meant to be
delivered, whether by skill not schooling,
just as it is:
purely intended as an assortment
of moments we call present tense
by choice not laissez-faire
of pure reality.

midnight provides the intersection
of space-time in this tiny room
where influx of rhythm trebles
the bass and light can be
relieved of its repose
to gentle or to rouse one
to befriend again the city
allegedly out there
equaling hypothesized
protection from the inside.

Noun that I've been watching (95)

fragment.

mid-sentence, she felt
herself adored until
the approaching final
word.

he remains to her
a temple of refractive
symmetry, a hypothetical
attraction of protagonistic
antonyms.

it's midnight, no one
ought to be awake,
with dream life to invent
as yet unthought
cure for excess quiet.