SUBJECT>Re: Stalking the Famous Poet / Of Mere Being POSTER>Gary B EMAIL>garydawg@msn.com DATE>1108500224 IP_ADDRESS>0-1pool117-227.nas1.tukwila2.wa.us.da.qwest.net PASSWORD>aaNdJbosu5nhw PREVIOUS>83427 NEXT> 83439 IMAGE> LINKNAME> LINKURL>

Fine. Be pleased. And why change the title?

Thanks.

Gary

: Stalking the Famous Poet / Of Mere Being

: The wind moves slowly in the branches.
: The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down.

: Later on, a box holds up the ground.
: A woman moans in it. She takes
: weeks to rescue. I am her tormentor. I say
: one million to the phone. I have drugged her
: and am breathing onto her small breasts.

: It is serious business. No one listens. There
: is
: no one around. No noise. I have drugged
: her and am breathing onto her small breasts.
: It is serious business. I say one million
: to the phone. I am her tormentor.
: Anything can happen.

: I see the faint cries she makes shake out
: from a tube, in my hand. This hollow reed, this
: rubber hose. It is serious
: business. She breaths through this
: thin tube, this rod. This is how we
: communicate.

: I want to buy her a bird, a pretty one like
: in the back of this book, Wallace Stevens,
: The Palm at the End of the Mind.
: She'll love it. I'll read slow
: and deliberate. I'll make tiny holes.
: She'll want me to read it all of the time.
: I'll make tiny holes. This is how we'll
: communicate.