If the generation wither

twinkling slinky, our of which

how should I

I am being forcibly retained in the land of no repute. Here all the chiefs of staff are too punch drunk to drop bombs on anyone. Liberation is passé for all except a few debutantes who have put their ostrich feathers in mothballs.

The new Commissioner was free to choose a dwelling which suited his fancy. If it did not exist, it would be built for him at public expense. But when he asked for a pagoda, he was given a geodesic dome.

Into sunlight they marched,
into dog day, into no saints day,
and were cut down.

The sky is full of bleating lambs
which bob above us. The rains flood
our apartment. Here no word exists

They say that when a goose flies south it holds a twig in its beak to keep from making a sound the hunters might hear.

I was bilbarious   I was overt   under the line overt the word

It walks.
That is,
it puts one foot in front of another

Their tracings, nearly identical.
Knowing, tonight
if I start with one I should carry through,

Don’t forget that while my legs
were clamped around the mule’s
ribs climbing a defunct