Tripod City

Of course one never touches particularly any part of the body until injury and it feels odd.  Can be more public to wander alone and watch things or speak with another in a small room.  A path formed along the wall.  Or swallowing: sips too small.  Subcutaneous, as in, undercuts.  However, you look at it (an hour to unwrap a peppermint by tongue).

Like always, all at once, sunrise, as a lost child counting higher and higher in woods.  As poppy seeds in a cake.  Oxen on copper (the downpour).  Quail for avail.  Then for than (as though everything temporized).  The old woman next door wakes to say there are people in the street (her son killed himself and her husband the concierge fell from a ladder and died before that).  Staying awake as though it will save.  Stunned, all right.  If you are a tripod, the third leg is your gaze and the camera who knows. 

Melon City

Searching for the one thing not on the map to learn the map.  The way Boulevard St. X which I know comes after a week to bisect Boulevard St. Y which I also know (love).  If you do the trick right, a magician appears.  A window appears (beneath every window: this is the tomb of).  Not walking up walls but the footprints.  Singing: we need to talk.  Answer: roofs, the cinema, streets (named for where they lead).  Answer: an egg, the shutters, seeds in a melon.  Sighs seeds.  So I gather (lust leaves me, leads me).

Car going faster or posts grown closer together.  Men pronouncing the names of fish.  Time lapse photo: reveals the tremble in things, things' thick.  Staring at the mouth as though that's where meaning is.  You tell the rose vendor we are cousins he offers an additional rose.  Asks me to take his picture insists I keep the camera.  A toy rose you are smoked.

Chestnut City

An exhalation, or the word for egg.  Mirror turns anything a martyr (I hold the book open and call whatever I do reading).  Can always paint your room.  As one who can't get right thinks maybe there is no right (or readying myself for a righter).  To come to a street behind the street, rougher.  Peeled the orange from inside (orange on a welder's pike).  Whatever the book is missing from the shelf, let's want.  Chestnut trees and newspaper men.  "Childhood is full of smells" (Cocteau).

The church, and the church in snow; the hills, and their sides.  "Study for a Woman Waking."  "Nocturne Without Moon."  Could go to sleep in the bushes and wake and it will be like a fairy tale only nothing will change.  "Path Before the Bride Appears."

Sheet City

Hello, megaphone.  Agreeing with this look to finish the drinks.  Every order (ultimately): chronological.  To speak a perfect language.  Things I wanted to film but couldn't.  Staunching with spider webs oil and vinegar.  Fisherman so poor he found an infant in clover.  Women carry the sheets in a sheet.  Thing seen in reverse most startling when then forwarded.  It is an apple, or the mouth.

So prisoners build the maze they tunnel out, cannot be tracked as long as they never surface.  He examines the window, and then he examines the skull (gnats).  Sleep in the shade of the tree with a jug until the shade is the shape of the jug.  The guards in booths like salesmen at telephones waiting out rain (not caring for rain).  Scanning the horizon, or shaking the head.