Please if you glance at this blog--post a comment!

I'm really beginning to burn out on rejections--one from Typo just a minute ago, for example.
It'd be nice if my acceptance rate could reach the 1 in ten rate! Oh well.

There-there care-bear, wherever sunlight
Dapples delicious things grow and grow

You up-up, into ether
Whose general profile

Concords to titanium--
Conceptual

Art pieces on a wall in Lithuania:
Stars of a gallery famous for

An entrance all arches and no doors
Ensuring the security of inclusion.

A Fragment:

I--an am in ambivalent

Prose-Poem After/For Kate Zambreno

Squeak, amnesia! Kill lice with amyl nitrate! After your hair is an aftermath, allow your ass and limbs and torso to grow dirty--deeper than the deep of deep-clean. Once you're all dolled-down, walk the prettiest streets in your suburb. I assure you there'll be a huge moon out; its light will beautifully stage you--bats will whirl 'round your head, blindly and with utmost sensitivity admiring your amble.

“…one adjective too many and you’re out”

Parks and parcels and pickups and pitstops and pits and arms and armoires;

Exquisite parks and radiant pickups and egregious pitstops and anorexic arms and ostentatious armoires;

Exquisitely mannered parks and radiant roaring pickups and egregious gregarious pitstops and anorexic elegant arms and ostentatious splintery armoires;

Exquisitely mannered dangerous parks and radiant roaring jaundiced pickups and egregious gregarious gorgeous pitstops and anorexic elegant allotropic arms and ostentatious splintery aromatic armoires;—

All of the above has burned. Someone has swept the ash and pips into a pile. Scoop some of the char up and mix with oil; make up your eyes.

Two variants--likely influenced by Aase Berg in its use of repetition (tho that of With Deer is more emphatic, and I don't have a love of heavy-handed adjectives; what is it with her and "Evil"!? Evil landscape this, Evil that, and that, and that):

In the appall there is an atoll. Eventually there. Fine sand. White fine sand. Palm frond on sand. Sand on fronds. In the appall he dreams of apples. Air appears pixilated. Pixel apples fall on sand not white nor fine. Someone must not be there. Not someone but there is there anyways. Water temperature is rising; hotter and hotter laps the sand. Hotter and hotter rises and rises and rises; the atoll becomes closer and closer to being submerged. Picture palm fronds appearing to float or at-least sway akin some species of seaweed. Many atolls are palmless. Pick up sand; let your hand love. The subject is disappearing or already departed; what emerges in its absence or does anything? Not thing—occurrence. An appall mutates—apple dapple. Then pines needle. A pineapple sweet juice. A rosin tinted horizon—a resin-slow breath-metric.

In the appall there is an atoll. In the appall he dreams of apples. Air appears pixilated. Pixel apples fall. Water temperature is rising: hotter and hotter laps the sand. Hotter and hotter rises and rises and rises; the atoll becomes closer and closer to being submerged. The subject is disappearing; what emerges in its emerging absence? An appall mutates—apple dapple. Pines needle. A pineapple sweet juice. A rosin tinted horizon—a resin-slow breath-metric.