Things the Dead Love

after/for Jared Hayes
The dead love
areas of fog
blood quiet nets
writing on air
that they were at the beach
flowering without warning
in the key of those who can no longer organize their environments
my dead       lawless
emergency in
erosion’s pull

the dead love
going to pieces
arguing with something plato said
before night falls
pieces    of sleep
rise in the fall
the enormous chorus

go to the pine
open the door
in the pines
on the nameways
in on or about the premises
the dead love
the trees the trees
occasional work and
where shadows will

the dead love
selected poems of ted berrigan
 the dead love
basic maintenance and repair
where to go, what to do, when you are
my dead      lawless
bicycle thieves
so going around cities
catching on
notes from the air

the dead love
the last time they met
at work:
wicked plants
the feast of
dancers among
the garden of invention

some deer left
the holy forest.
so there.
the problem
with deer
my dead
last words by antler.
the dead love
vernacular eloquence,
museum of    happy birthday
light & shade
portrait and dream
the step

canoeing up cabarga creek
on love and barley
you and three others are approaching a lake
this is it
the world we have
beneath a single moon
the dead love
tougher disguises
the dead love
airport music
the ascent of
vile lilt
i’d rather be skip james
dancing on main street
summer blonde
your time has come
the sound of waves
this is where i leave you
playing america’s game
eyes wide open
the loneliness of the long
kind of blue
the last shot
a cut above
the promise of
love, yo
the dead love
tell them i didn’t cry
the dead love
all i know about tennis
the girls with
the green
the making of the african queen
with love and
love yo
then again

in the room of never grieve
the dead love
against expression
shook my
ko or a
urgin   pqrs
the dead love
roots and branches
situations, sings
because it is
doubled flowering: from the note
light boxes’
open house
of prophecies
of space
compression & purity
yes thing, no thing
this time we are both

so we have been given time    or
something like an autobiography
the rarest of the rare
fox    who press
not nearly because of the unknown that was rushing toward
the dead love
my life and my life in
a dream interpreted within a dream
chambers for a memory
paradiso diaspora
out, strange beasts of the past

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