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Someone shot a million billion neutrinos through Minnesota and
 found one or two at the other end.

Lake Superior was the starting place.

Zacarias Moussaoui who did not participate in the 9/11 bombings
 will not be sentenced to death.

My body speaks the same language as walls, all our electrons

A charismatic storm rolls in and lays the buds flat.

The baby could not be stopped, waved and ate a crab apple blossom.

Night day night day a Maytag
cycle & sun an amniotic rock like a golden loogie in the sky.

An atom for whom it is hard to interact with matter.

I cannot see event but a white ghost glinting, rolling
 over the horizon.

But mothering makes us ambidextrous.

Objected by a house.

Clear the dishes out.

Please find my shoes, flax blue. Something's winking in the yard.

A peak upon which the sun never sets.

Dreamt these symbols: "I [ ] my red
river valley, my red
coat, red dress.: will always
have; had;
have had; will always have had"

The dream-having shifts as if
what we could do or be in tiny gradations and import is
constantly escaping.

A river transforming into a boat
& you, the rider.

And dreamt a whip that tortures itself.

To settle in dark mantle deposits, the moon's maria
To land in the Lake of Excellence
(A slow boat for cargo, fast taxi for humans)
To leap in itinerant air

What is a "wave of violence"?
What is the Delta Force? Who
blew up the bridge? Who jumped in the lake?

(After laughter slaughter of
the low

The man with black leather wristbands and a double chin
leads us to the next transformation
and I ask, but how much is spectacle & how much is real? How much
is spectacle, how
much real?
Spectacle & Real, Spectacle & Real (I am
looking into his face). (1)

Whosoever has almost drowned will never
trust water again.

Not a glass of water?
Not a glass of water.

I think it depends on what kind of person you are--do you
find the limits & then
start kicking?

The will collects with the world.
The will collects against it.
It collects with it as we grow
 into or towards the world
 & then it collects against it.

What do you mean by that?

How a river rhymes with
small variations in the structure

Sea's strophes, a push
and receding of sound--hush
and roar--hush
and roar

language loving each
rock (syllable) as it comes in
then pushing it off

what shatters the sky
a fact's decay in time

rolling around

I didn't know what to say that I hadn't already said so I stopped
talking about it (political/world situation)

like the sound shadows of the ocean

a word creeps out of her mouth, appears
in the curve (lip & tongue)

it's not missing its b's but its final consolation

boo(k) boo(b) bir(d) bom(b)ing

Is that sea surrounded by land or land
surrounded by sea?

(The body exposed like stone
to wind or words, erodes)

Internally displaced
earthquake-watching stars

Nick Ranger, arms dealer, doesn't know
if his guns have fallen
into the hands of rebels, i.e.,
Fuck you

A wave makes a slapping sound
at the happy meeting of land and water, and the slap
is carried through air

Where did I begin with a light in
the mouth carried
from somewhere

Continent's light and dark scurries
through night, the south

Dreamt I had to kill a man
in order to stop the
cramps in my legs & hand

I was in Abu Ghraib and Laird
was my friendly jailer

I succumbed to the snowy
ornithology of the North
the bittern histology of the East

when we become that creature that I am (2)

Let me slip off the front
or any brain
Let me slip off my brain
so useless/in the face
of face/
how to not be face but be

daylight's order decays me midmorning

nighttime's world of close chaos comes in

as birds might say I've lost my compass

Can you give me prices
on baby legs and a
high hat?


a small chunk of her arm was carried off by a wasp, hair
by the form of hills.
What pleases me here? Hair, her
hair her hills

That is, my savannah has crawled over to dust.

Shrapnel huddled in the mud, smiles brightly
at a glint of sun

a clock that keeps moving then telling

The president was unsure which to advise: chrystotherapy or
 chrysotherapy? christ or gold christ or gold

evening bursts through the doors
who holds the sky back

a turn signal winks flirtatious

a body lobs a ball, a ball
lugs itself through air

a body looks forward
to what evolution can restore

of mammals animals Cenozoic their storehouse source (the body, sun)

far from stars they structure
and repeat themselves concrete


found an ancient forgotten riverbed named "Realealea"

is more real, as a dream is more real
than the president

(1) / pigeons fall
from the building, delicate & full
of grace like swoops
of white waves collapsing in
silence or
falling snow, in suicide-
leaps; pearling grey
that fly back
up again to
their trees--

(2) / Creation is violet I thought reality
blue, but it was just my
thinking, which is
yellow and
everything that touches touches you
turns to something
you can hear being its
brown and pink, twingeing

for/from Paul Fattaruso
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Author:Fattaruso, Paul
Publication:Chicago Review
Article Type:Poem
Date:Jun 22, 2008
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