Poems by Michael Farrell

Poetics
 
what on earth
what not on earth
swimming in the caches
cat: 00,
crocodile: 00 [clock: 24
what separates is the interest in … fish are the least interested in …
of the animals interested in,
These few comments, unreflected on
Borrowed from reading, as one might
The shoes are in the shoe closet
It’s gentler than … Sound, in my case …
… Still, in the words of the telegram:
we turn, as a tender button
so dependent, so produced
There are changes … in … body
The sounds of … works
spain? italy? poland?
on … streets …
did they … try
Speak plainly, and wear …
That came from (integrity, the labour movement, southern exile)
That men, washing in cold water, listening
[Lying back in the garden, the sociology of it, the mother and
 the father, having studied arts / law are sociologists, you
 don’t work like … Destruction and formation in French politics
 I want to make a space (transposed)
Structures outside …
Unfrightened by the dog jumping up and down
Thix ix not xomething dexigned to be xaid
(fragility)
Years as numbers
Today
Am …
Before, and seeing, and …
Writing of the stove, [order], where to go
Cutting lowering
A subject
That prevailed and surveyed, having taken in
You see … It’s … you
That I read in the names
And it creates, having …
e. c. i. m. m².
The letters are sufficient for now
We play the records, sit in the small cinema
 hired theatre. This — none of this — is
 the same. Old divisions, reportage
 meaning goss — what is the goss on them?
 That they are now being venerated unto death
 But you are mine, sympathetically
 But I will hold you at a distance
 It goes on, went on, goes unseen

Spicer Poetics
 
Love, Jack; love, jack
The mask that masks too much
The spring resounds, announces
Accidental
pressing on mind
Not philosophy, feeling
Not the song, the circle
Jousting? No, and no reproof
I will never be standing by a bar
  a boy’s head in my mouth like a brick
The photographic mysteries
  the darkroom in the secular world
Christ as the Devil, a pageant
the north
the lack of north
When we are anxiety on a pin
Rushing our words to the chirograph
god of war
radio termites
  They fall on the village of San Francisco
  leaving the goat to die in the snow
  hohoho was an expression of those days
def honey
You couldn’t cough your guts up
  yr not so refined
alabama
Fruit by the side of the fox
Aloha Medici was his name
  but he went by Jamie le Grande
apology
apology in stone
The heathen demon and the other demons
That I give you 2 wishes doesn’t mean
  I’m not sore
but come
  To the crater
  and throw off your garter
The austere flamingo
Did you think you would never wake up? Your pillow
  is asleep, your bed is asleep. All the books
  are snoring and dreaming of each other. They’re
  surprised. William Carlos Williams writes a letter:
  Dear Louis … Yrs Bill. In the cabinet of minor crows
  one is shuffling, ballooning to majority. Videos swoon
  like ants to coffee; hemispheres twirl like hats
  The peasants have bodies that belie their suits
  Trucks run through wooden fences that are never
  repaired
the chair; the cherry
tilda swinton climbs an oak tree with a grapevine, a beehive
The doctor said the level of oxygen in the love was normal