CONJUNCTIONS: A Web Exclusive
| From Paper Head Last Lyrics
“Show me the meaning of the Word
They are said to be in the book,
but there is no book.
One might paint the entire world, and
in any manner one wished.
It is almost as if one might write
the entire world, too.
What do you want, strange man?
from where all arts and all stories came
between grey lines on a gray page
Viva las revoluciones!
Now the zone that files you somewhere
every diet pill you took
They are sad to be
but there is
One might point to and tire of
The man was whisked away
almost as if retreating from
here all art and all memory
every direct take you took
spine scrunched in mattress
Money on the sacred wheel of fortune.
tyranny as being the man of pen
There are questions from the radar.
to convey, translate, transfer
colonize the writer’s fairness
On behalf of the search committee
good fortune in your career
to use the gun to kill the Imperialism
filtered somewhere and dictated towards
(which is a human being)
A young man’s five minute walk
A gentle piece of reaching.
The gentle takes their reasons.
a gentle piece of machinery
A sense of entitlement
if you always check the red
and white service
tenth pouch of hell
A friend in the market is better than
your mind is filled by new ideas
Human selfishness and self-centeredness
light stuff like eggs and potato salad
The menu was covered with liver and tongue
please join us to …
against that tyranny as being the man
Wishes really do come true
innumerable phenomena enter
There are questions from the reader
filled in with new ideas
was devoted to his work
tenth punch of the bell
One two three four five six rolls of
your madness momentarily slipped away
Which was extraordinarily unwieldly
A friend in the target is better
your mind is somewhere else
minds are mingling and tingling
Swollen twice its
to be in the book
There is also a lawnmower
retired with dignity, actually
beside the pickup truck
your mind is chilled
More than a custodian having a lucid moment
you held up
the stagecoach in the rain
to be an honest narrator by refraining
Dress for the tableau in pure and delicate
No, I think I can get a job.
transform passersby into shadows
no bad side effects
follo wing my return from Mexico
like any genetically altered human
In fact, there is no window either,
but only shape.
a gentle piece of memory
both worked themselves to death at an early
Do you lick the paper?
Did you once upon a time lick?
Now is wandering
a poet and colleague of mine
What day is the day of return?
the very reality of the society’s one-sided judge-
A beggar is considered a stigma
on the face
to be born helpless or was later
robbed of his equal
the loyal group turned against the master
dictated towards decisions
New ways to improve the techniques of writing
a small window not far from the restrooms
raw populism (like raw onion)
a refuse in adversity
Now I see what kind of danger you give up
“Well,” she said after exhaling, “something else.”
When the moon is in the seventh house
and Jupiter aligned with Mars
This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius
On the laundromat radio
“But tonight is different,” she pushed on.
Who socked Madonna?
the three- dimensional arrangement
of emotion in langauge
A traffic island
I know when you are not being honest with
Black and orange on a buff background.
listening to St. John’s wort
“we will not be defined by our temperature”
No, I think I can transform passersby into
Once man’s aspirations bed money
peace will guide the planets
No one has been able to prove it.
No one has
to prove it.
A little piece of machinery
Raw populace like rare bunion or rough pumice?
In moving slow he has no peer.
he says he’s a space alien
alright, that’s enough, no more
Henry Kissinger is one evil
son of a bitch.
No one can understand what I’m talking about.
“slime nose & green lip”
Henry Kissinger is an evil