Author: Richard J Tilley
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Horn of plenty ars moriendi
Thieves of synoptic meteorology debating wayward proposals for sublime entry to triggering dewclaws and vespers of restful language Downmarket trigonometry for stolen haste and verbose olive tongues with down-wind pearl...
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There can be no spirituality without revolution
How shall you practice your prayers? Will you stand on a pillar among the starving and war-ravaged? You will starve yourself in cooperation with the divine? Do you not see...
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Cooperation
“cooperation is the fundamental lesson of harmonics,” God said, as She reached beneath her legs washing dishes in the gutter “in harmonics.” “would you believe there was a time when...
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clouded yellow flèche
an earth sample docile defeat remorse in the morning jingoism at its peak periclinal folds on the alabaster stark ravine in the mire two towns given in rinse myths short...
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Reigning Sonography
Frightened tree climbs its toe Like a boar stump, clumsy felucca trims Stolen like a mamzer indoctrinated into dust Hollowed rhythms snake into fit dressings Coil reburst along a specious...
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Gregorian Skunkmouse
Honor is for muppets Hope is more grounded with coffee and cigarettes Dreams cannot escape passages, to this one or that A memoir is a broken promise Music redeems even...
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The nation is burning its notion
Taken away at a young age, the dispelling malfeasance has no ritual that compels him. The microwave has been working hard today. No time for salads or fresh cut fruit.
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There is no codeography among strangers
Last step in the plumb line questionnaire, removed from the waging whale Too distilled for proper apple disheveled attire loose like an ash tiger on Wednesday Like lake whistle-blows on...
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Trains Different from Digestive Tracts
She knows the train is moving It is silent and lovely, almost singing There are different appealing people Staggering this way and that Untying their luggage Looking for their lunch...
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Between Moons Where God Does Find Me
The sideways winds drill epithalamium moons around her sawdust ankles Like stubborn bears and hostile wetsands of eleemosynary rites and posey tusks I was once like you, a shy tenderfoot...