Terse, page 15

The 15th page of Terse

the fountain

at the fountain’s head

the water spills

chilled and hinted in blue

over the stillness of the marble

endless bubbles fight to the surface

to sing their redemption into the open air

the same song that has been sung

for thousands of years

and every second it continues to be ignored

i don’t even know how to listen anymore

a Young Man defiant

Page 16 of “a Young Man”

between roadsides and corn fields

our bodies perched on fence posts

scenic silhouettes

or scarecrows?

word algorithms

Politics

Sinatra

Was

Jones

Singing in

Whales.

Saturday

Night

Fever

 

 

Unlike your other side,

Vanishing lady train get off

My life boat, stuck with others

Europe under nazi’s czech’s

Hello Britain I’m traveling you

With a young-older woman

Ms. Unusual name

I’ve protoganisted! Abducted!

Redgrave in the burial

Mound. Great stuff with my

Splitting head, in the tunnel

The twisted plot that’s untied

By line one of WWII

Hello Mr. Churchill, you’ve

Summoned me, I’m young.

Love good food, inexperienced

In walking, moving.

Please defeat the American

Non-threat by representing

Britain. Slandered! Tribute

To the natives. Meet Jimmy!

Based on a book of psychological

Atmosphere. Tired, tired, tired

Wornt out in the European dream

Of American dichotomy. Holland!

Orwell art is propaganda! But

Don’t try reverse! It’s too

Appealingly innocent, no doubt

 

The Alfred Cameo.

 

Visions of light documentary

Voyeurism applicable

Drawn forbidden all apart of

Theory I’ll explain it all

Subtitled art visions of

Lightotographers illustrated

Beginning to creation

Ideal! Talk! Let’s start

Look later too many to

Assimilate too interesting

To think about, pull

Number tenographer for

Awhile

The arrival of German

Orson expressionism

Listenless. Dark.

 

That’ll be sufficient for today.

the coast

embrace my blistered fingers that combed seashores

and never felt the ocean

smile into my eyes that gaze into the future

and see so little

 

a spider lonely

I wake up everymorning early it isn’t daybreak I get out

I walk to work I get out my tools I set to work

It’s daybreak I walk back and forth I dangle and spin

I spin my web it’s connected to the work area I work

I wake up everymorning and get out my tools I wake up

Everymorning and spin death into the world everymorning

I wake up it’s death into the world I spin it isn’t

Daybreak I walk death back to daybreak its work

I wake up everymorning and work