When hospitality

becomes an industry
and industry stops being
a quality, like virtue

when the concept of virtue
doesn’t make much sense
 when sense is marketed
to us for money

when money becomes
a goal in its own right
when some have rights
 and the rest something else

you are something else.
   Your hospitality
is more important than
  your spelling.


T- d rails                      the rushing scent
Sound of gull wheels           fin    e
Gers in water                          th.  Oughtful

 Lady ailments                 her bod is d├ęcor
A shun scars               and wheeling away
Holds out two wrists           wit

H  bloud    bomb       how light peels
From shade   oh         boxed   c.  off
In a day time night     mare      mixed

 To be gin      to ne water    no tes ring
Release          sump shone on  castling
        brook.   strings on a apple violin


the day is a drum that connects
these vocal loops  
with grey traffic circles
bridge after bridge

as u know    we look for u
in the park           the terse
wood under trippers light
are spawning     sharp thighs
shafts and cunts melting
in the firs' limbs
      gossip surrounds you

wish to start our conversation off
and start another           wish you'd
come back and clean up this town
the wind rises

smoking holds feelings down
drinking retards this movement
in the chest         i cry in bed
walk steep tracks in the dry spells
there is no         why

they can articulate
that is more than running water
        care for me
the living hold each other
and philosophy falls
out of all our mouths

while by the lakeside
trees fuck in the storm
almost nobody else sees