Enter the chilly no—man’s land of about Five o’clock in the morning, the no—color void Where the waking head rubbishes out the draggled lot Of sulfurous dreamscapes and obscure lunar co...

I’m a riddle in nine syllables, An elephant, a ponderous house, A melon strolling on two tendrils. O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers! This loaf’s big with its yeasty ri…

With white frost gone And all green dreams not worth muc… After a lean day’s work Time comes round for that foul slu… Mere bruit of her takes our street

'Perspective betrays with its dich… train tracks always meet, not here… in the impossible mind’s eye; horizons beat a retreat as we emba… on sophist seas to overtake that m…

Grub-white mulberries redden among… I’ll go out and sit in white like… Doing nothing. July’s juice round… This park is fleshed with idiot pe… White catalpa flowers tower, toppl…

Cold on my narrow cot I lie and in sorrow look through my window—square of black: figured in the midnight sky, a mosaic of stars

An old beast ended in this place: A monster of wood and rusty teeth. Fire smelted his eyes to lumps Of pale blue vitreous stuff, opaqu… As resin drops oozed from pine bar…

Overnight, very Whitely, discreetly, Very quietly Our toes, our noses Take hold on the loam,

A squeal of brakes. Or is it a birth cry? And here we are, hung out over the… Uncle, pants factory Fatso, milli… And you out cold beside me in your…