an Eostre pome (Mr. Peanut is my weathervane)

Posted in poetry on April 24, 2011 by cbrannonwatts

guano dynamics

/dovetail hope with

expanding foam[semantics from]

the great pole tolerance

,green hats

:crippled in absentia meatloaf

,circled in nailclipped

handwriting vague…


.rodents with hot

love/waxing meta



-ast, twirl laboured

moustaches; touche,

he thinks. a sculpture of suture…s

and [no egg available]. no egg on

Eostre’s Day

.bronchially inconclusive

and peanut butter

,the weathervane

,debates with the poet about

nothing deadbeats with the po

-et about nothing

,from nothing is something

.run rabbit run, weather

grassland nuns fly

or crawl





the mouth of language, blood (reassembly; for Mansel)

Posted in poetry on April 24, 2011 by cbrannonwatts


bestride tornadic green sky, three great white eyes three between. hand-bold clouds as

three skies outside the green leave trees as blank as foam as blank as memory;

so little for us: a dram a dollop with mouths open in sleep where phenylketonuric

fearless as children as spiders know cats eaten as sheets brake

late klaxon shufflings on bedsides drop in scene. where you were no

walls or substance all a formless coiling void at;

shake the occasional with increasing tremor as harped

as carpet as occasional as form. doubtless windows check

you shelter you, soul your covering cover your spooling – imperiled

as empire flashes your eyelids through strain, at stars

as staring at trains you were, small. candied

then as there,

the mouth of language,



ticket tornado blue eyes and white in the middle of three main part hands – a thick cloud –

three trees in a distance – the thickness of paper, sponge, because remember

we will reduce, including also bedroom forests of phenylketonurics stacked as spoons in her mouth, open

children, learn how to eat cat and spider though a

history of things again from the corner bed. a brightening crowd

when dust and broken wind; withered

with the release of the event with runs like a violin

with carpet registered farms. as windows,

risk – to protect her heart your insurance, unless

it’s to improve. his eyelids. a little car. candy





the moment of slalom [Allah yikhalliik] to the ceiling what gifts you give as

pain buys slow room crystal a shattered palace but the silver remains and silver

as silver as gold no groups on the bridge. toiling clowns drink sadness town after town

bloom black laughter drift like leaves of Ygdrasil and you in the crowd you every time. I know

what look you must share as storms build as music fails as vapor only popcorn

in the stands popcorn like ozone builds and burns the nose what

mouth of language,


end of letters and roof (reassembly)

Posted in poetry on April 17, 2011 by cbrannonwatts


two birds shot; in love a man loved two: shot the last time two some ones spoke there

were letters flailed to the sky the force of conviction the ragtime comedy not his not letters but

love as a word bereft of sense as animal nosings in a house sans portes all dreamt shake and

hanged the living room as ever as never to be; our cupcakes fit your hand who else can say

the broken binding overhead the broken binging of the world. your fingernails right where you left

them, left what you found them. the only words the inquisition/relativity/assholes through space as

Burroughs had it, free from the doves they probably were, shot the last time

a wealth as tribes would have it

swollen with ground mineral;

static once the tidied cloud


the two, birds the love of two, people who loved strokes:

the nature of comedy, do not think the power that shook the sky, but words

lagetaimu dream sharing the word, raise pets: love the edges of the sun. doors

you can never hang in my room you, you can tell us some cake

in addition, restricted to drugs of global violation. nails on the left

also looking for any connection. this web is/is not only/the application dread;

doves were released, shot in the last season: Burroughs

breeds such as property tax,

whether the mass of mineral;

when clouds tie-dyed balance


the shallows grasp the bottom the can the hand as clever as suction; no ant waits for

shadow as tide the sun as arc altimeter welding moment and momentum for giants in charge.

la la linguists evaporate like dust prayers in motion the cycles of heaven released; chains fall,

crushing faint zealots and their robes the flesh of cinders holds time, subtlety and watches there

were no pockets for the damned glacial in scope as permanent percussion warps now in two

where hides face and feet;

where faces hide and feet,


moon in man (reassembly)

Posted in poetry on April 15, 2011 by cbrannonwatts


she kissed my uptempo mandream as whisper as fleshed the time was very first

left alone and sharing moon scented moon with fragile texts like bone beneath

our lefts; little known oranges squared the room with textile lefts

the room, knowing little of the moon or mandream remembering time shed

kiss. trenchant as nautilus as evacuated subspace defeat, trailing satyrs’ sagacity

told chambord lies through close as minds leveling drift, explode antipodes.

colloquies of madness sing

strings into couches,

cabochons as liquorice.


Accelerant speed broke skin as first mantime as I kissed dreams

import documents: Moon, Moon Pineapple

we know very little. room left an orange suit, he mouths,

he months mandream, or from time, to time, to remember very little

known about prevention hiss. hit a sharp rate of agriculture, Sartre Nautilus Next,

stamp fuck Tom Draw, Australia is second after the explosion.

colloquies salt out


licorice cabochons.


normally don’t do this moon in man with wing sack salutations; the open view

opened to the moon, winged moon in a sack straggling over my back a wave casual as

hello where the ladies all giggle your name remain horrified spread thin cucumber on white bread and think

of all the time. no matter what hurts as handshake, real is flawed as mine would

cool as temper as baby, white singsong is all about song no lips

what sweet speaks

in duress.

3 connected (every third word, an English something: almost aardvarks)

Posted in poetry on April 15, 2011 by cbrannonwatts

every third word

everywhere. and especially confused, or Japan:

an of before period, fertile show pony region

is 900, is middle love, an “a” first accessible

place. children’s center trademarked entertainment;

for oldest, list local businesses… also the America.

home for interfaith dialogue, spelled name.

history shows comedy, the finest usually,

experienced synonyms using

convenient, well, to-preposition links;

or other uses. board the news:

latest please, polite


every third word

an English something:


Beatles’ informational conduct: military,

joining one coconut guide to video millions.

a natural adjective hallucinogen found,

the other “us” home. can working with

encyclopedias – spelled spells – white

Internet? arguably, question characters’

favorite nation’s road resource, bold.

danger risks that activity’s world,

an English something:

almost aardvarks…

short length; few improve. legislation

enacted statue selection.

lemming ontological (reassembly)

Posted in poetry on April 15, 2011 by cbrannonwatts


shortwashed tides of static lift, subsume your voice a hollow buzz, lift your tolling hollow body’s drift in black and white;

these faces drift benevolent drift and merciful tuned the camera speaks a hum a lie it’s not not black not white as paper

bottom rise the drum. color flees the shattered cliff you were the last to sing to sing the last of colored clarity. rise, as lens, as moment bound the hammer comes. comments, the summation of broken measure, the ticktock grasping of words for purpose, podium for place. your locus face collective hate draped thin colloquial; gladhand, what more hat does for you.

and all the crowd nearby

lets out sleep as vapor

we can taste

prepared for waves.


short a steady upward how to swim; the word of high of level of your body increase in sentences the art of black and white;

it is good a work a mercy upon the chamber, lack of integration is an article dark, down the cask. cliff of the last of the lens, so that the color of the works of the song, this page

was last broken in pieces, hammered like to mounted packaged like to review and steps to finish it. Ahteyaktoak: the response is corrupted, as the forum no doubt paged.

but happy is that people were it not full of hats in the dependence on the strongface hatred of the oral like to birds the worm is lost

they carried

let the pressure of beds

enjoy a perfect wave.


solace found the back of your neck icetrayed and shimmed between two boards that were Frost’s children when they breathed sulfur and smite, the

only fish clasped in dirt hand moonlight; the scrub growth smokestack toting almost almighty meaning into realms of no day nodding. stolen, feathered

leave as claws flail in neon trimmed eyelash, gauze as moment turns to rust to jagged shirtsleeve orange a swinging bathroom stall. nights like these made

for fostered wastrels, kestrels on the bell, turn and lathe the pendant slow you’ll wear over the scythe

why lead the ankled stutter



diligent e (reassembly)

Posted in poetry on April 11, 2011 by cbrannonwatts



we lay there confined as in bone as in cornflake asinine; shelled and sealed to it the room the velcro throne happening splashes dun druids contemplate silence connive to screech is ruined like spatters of soap relief and

earth beneath your nails where the rain starts, shine the drumming ends creep inside preternatural clouds, of bowls, of

becoming risk, coming sound too much not volume but volumes; columns of volume pink-shirted pain

one hand in three arbored polyps start, an inverse crayon sutra we’re all drawn

in outskirts as dawn children watch the edge curl


it all blows away

curved lips of silence





government restrictions on the kornflake throne compare the bones of the room, ask to help

destroy the soap magic-signed by an explosion; the conspiracy of silence, shouting.

hands dirty, extra drums start to rain, clouds creep over the natural end of

market bulls risking in the future sound. however the number and amount of diurnal infrared pain

start with the hands of a pencil by our three polyps.

outer edges survey local children.



silent expectation of the lips.




calm before calm the storm awaits as abacus likelihood one green thread hums closes for the thrive

insularly hip regularities defy physics as insulation wanes physical. to unread chart minds: no belongings,

turnover apples barrel down the highway yes highway inhuman rain in cups rain in tanks rain in hands desert

felix culpa each individual drop thank you and I’ll take mine hot and drowning in tension spread it thin spread it mine

as glass as night as smooth


which light turns the road

the word as ever.