It was fantastic to hear so many poets read last weekend at the Boston Poetry Massacre. Happy to meet & talk to people, too. Among the chapbooks I bought or was given, just now reading Jim Behrle's (Purple) Notebook of the Lake (Braincase Press, 2003) :

"across your tangled heels teach us
to sleep if during the requiem"

I'll be internetless often in August.

I've always liked the phrase Indian Summer and August reminds me of it.



Distance queried by grammar
My eyes have broken
This, the legal sound
How to deter global capital

Poems for weeks
built for beams and slabs of marble
pasted onto lattice-work windows

Sentences coursing
An ink fell on mine eyes

My moves, movies I've been
through--each our place

Among the crowds
At the feast
w/ wine and meat

Speech orphans pleasure

House made of dawn
House made of morning light
House made of rain
House made of summer branches
House made of dark cloud
House made of Ocean Rain
House made of Low-Life
House made of Murmur
House made of The Queen Is Dead
House made of Illmatic
House made of Technique

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