THE CAVE CHILDREN OF NEW YORK ARE NEVER FREE

I had six of that many. Under the newspaper delivery the door slipped like an ominous doorbell. Stake lock of who should come. E not satisfying but why show that matters. A done the first new year in platters a shelf of fingertips destroy destroy. Outer wear, terrain came, a plausible, dint he bite trigger, narrow lames of beautify them. As if it shall comment. Dont? Tariff protrudes almost twice the cracking. Book of Of. Every shelf in every dream bat. Only too long the vamber's locked grooves undulate triumph after footloose furry fury. I bang enough impressions thought total like traps. No deloraloriolius. A cute as fire four fickle fingers blunt & mute.



MIEKAL AND

L=I=N=G=L=A=G=E
1987, 7x8.5, 28 pgs, $4. An invisible tribute to the far-reaching effects of L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E, this serial poem is an auditory construction. Language imagined for the sake of orality, for the kiss of speech & its after-effects.