
-for Dottie, on her birthday
Nothing will beget nothing here across the 
Distance of these thresholds remembering 
Them posing tourists in another summer 
Before terrorism or your youth outgrows 
Itself swerves in another glass no memory 
Will capture the summer here ways a sun 
Doesn’t seem to comprehend things the 
Eyes say to us at night cross like neighbors
My (Joe) Dante flings over this cartoon stru
ggle abysses nation the fantasy called nation
A way our childhoods flee from us like the
Wish had already come true flowers bloom 
In retrospect suppress the wind everyone is
Evil writing their private poems addressing 
Them if this is the address you meant to send
Me too will you be a Beatrice of sorts among
More desirous Gizmos Gitmos Quiznos this
Past week was the 20th anniversary of the 
Exxon Valdez spill dear Orientalist dear neg
ative stereotyping you make our dreams come 
True a cartoon coming on my head makes all ideas 
Veritable the mirrors around our past booty call 
This body when there is nothing to control no
More no more remote controls called subjects
Just this panning of the camera without an
Object upon which to rest its focus just this
Feedback cranked up beyond recuperation
Just this feeling no where left to go except 
Up into singularity or poverty the gutter or 
A c boundary where your former wishes are
Former selves and seeing ghosts is pretty 
Much our everyday as one is not I anyway
Or we or the dead or any name we shall become 
In the fire of our wishing in time that we 
Should be called by but unheard we will
Not hear it called back by governmentability 
Memories and screen fantasies approximate
Experience over-socialize another vision
A Baroque in love with their shadows again.