The letters on the neon sign go out, one a year, or are not repaired, and: Slender the residence of immensity, and: To wear a vigorous shirt. At See-See Coffee

The letters on the neon sign go out, one a year, or are not repaired

  shortened are the number of timesI will speak to my father alivethe days I can just goof off and no one cares

are likewise declining    like the wild population of the rhinoceros  nosing gigantically the waterhole mud

  the year a third done already  at the trash pile an enormousphotograph of Mount Rainier shaped like a trash pile  from the mountaintop at night you cansee clusters of light that are the townswhere as in the clusters of light above,grave calculations are performed  like my cousin the sheriff or my cousin the felon

I usually only see the sun at the usual greatdistance but this light on my parking ticket is no less    part of the sun than its impersonal flaresI give a quick goodbye like shaking water off my hands

Robert Creeley! There are fewer and fewer Roberts Creeley.There are fewer / fewer excellent things to remember.fewer people buzz me in through secret doors.

The moon hangs over the garage    reminding me that I will or will not live forever  gently appointed with a rude corsage    fulcrum of the sun-and-moon-balanced lever

  and if the sun travels on the descending-airplane’s wingthen also some tongue-red camelliasjust now bloom  but already some have fallen into the grass’s ringsame sunlight plane and flower both perfume

  this yard where I vomit after having hauled    from the basement, soaked in rat piss and shit and death,  layers of insulation inexpertly installed,fiber and virus entering every breath,

  yard also of the annual Derby party when Mary Park  lived here and I drank julepfrom cold sweating pewter

Slender the residence of immensity

It frogs in from the front and fails.Concentric broadcasts summit the senses  and slide the faculty a sleeping pill.

I’m in a midsummer custodylike spots caught midway up a giraffe.  From the driving beard of permissionthe legation perishes into the coliseum.  It’s a legitimate

intimacy, the roseof the perishable orgy & geodesy  sumptuous in the sextant’s shade.

It’s a serious setback. The gasoline quivers  a servile propinquity, swept by thegreenbrier in a swivel chair  but the lieutenant

gourmet’s goldfishhas gone unnourished again so has gone golfing  blessed and blameless, bickering and salting.It’s an uneven undoing.

The thrush shods.  The peacock packs a peach in the possible parenthesis.Heavyweight, the hearse crutches close  the gazelles are enjoined. Extraordinary.Such scrollwork from such eye teeth.

  Hey, Travis, I’m at some bar in the Mission     by myself and remembering last winterwhat we saw in Montana, stopped for gas  as the first snow fell and we had to    go around the mountains

    the three bluebarrels that said deposit elk hides here  overflowing and even below freezing    the death smell—it’s stayed with me, Travis.Thanks for help driving. Anyone else would have    said too much about it

Thought I’d tell youI was thinking about the invisible knotsthat bind together the part of the world    I’m falling from to the end

either like a gutterin pursuit or the prey, the elk on the trail    antler-first. I want a late night with the wildpeople who keep danger

taped to the inside    of their encounters. I want to help them burndown the company picnic

and remain    in their heads to show to the beautiful lizard insidehelp with the parcels and the empties    and the next day unchanged or even tired.

To wear a vigorous shirt. At See-See Coffee

  in the bathroom, a sticker on the hot-water tanksays, It only takes one or two

seconds to becomehelpless in flowing grain, or among flowering graves,  down where the boats are being unloaded.It happens so...