Not your soothing shot-silk murmur, sweetest sound, that replays in the pearl-grey bedroom
forever.
Not the hoped-for words of conciliation, or the sigh, the line that melts with youth,
or does it replace the natural, smoky, steamy, the adenoid world, the nasal, negative, the
chirpy, the huge, the undulant, the murderous, the loud, the knock-down, the intermittent,
the pure-smoky, the chuckle, the rustle, not the cheering, the ruffling, the dancing, the
whining, the ruffling, the struts, the truth, the talks, the secluded silence, not the
struts drawing us up and down, the last course in this history, or the traffic bearing down
West Street, the incessant drooling of the B-Q-E.
Not my own, uneven tissue.
Not my own, uneven music.
Inner music.
Tissue of remembrance.

Madonna.
Judy.
Cher.
Aretha.
Callous.
Not your soothing shot-silk murmur, sweetest sound, that replays in the pearl-grey bedroom
forever.
Not the hoped-for words of conciliation, or the sigh, the line that melts with youth,
the verse that rots with pain, Orbison, Sinatra, Smoky and Stevie, the adenoidal lament,
the nasal tiniac, the five-hectare, the tubare, the rumbling, the screaming, the homicidal,
not the intermittent sweetness, the shudder of Papa, laughter, humbleness and caresses,
not the rustling rustle, and not the silent, smoldering wind, the raganelles that speak,
the cicadas that follow, not the canuccia strips that suck air when the sound is past
history, or the traffic that rolls down from North Street, incessant rumble of the B-Q-E.
Not my own, uneven respiration.
Inner music.
Tissue of remembrance.
Madonna.
Judy.
Cher.
Aretha.
Callous.
Not your soothing shot-silk murmur, sweetest sound, that replays in the pearl-grey bedroom

Not my own, uneven tissue.






Not the sharp smile, heard without a stop, or the silence after, the departure, not the
pained tears, not the quarrelsome and suffocating silences of too fleshy lips, not silver-haired
hair, but the immobility, not repressed on the bottom, that flows from the bile after
the defeat, to make the waters oily.
Everything is over.
And she still says,
EARTH!
EARTH!
EARTH!

or the sigh the line that melts with ruth orbison sinatra smoky stevie the adenoidal wine the nasal
negative the chirp the coo the undulant murderous yell not daddy's intermittent gravel sweetness
the tree frogs talking the cicadas
not my own uneven breathing inner music tissue of remembrance madonna judy share aretha callous
not hard words or harsh laughter heard unbroken or the silence after leaving and not rueful tears
not some sultry silences from two fur lips not silvered hair
you
but the unstifled stillness of rock bottom that wells up out of bile after defeat
to all of us everything is over and still it says
start what you have to do begin again
or the sigh the line that melts with ruth orbison sinatra smoky stevie
the adenoidal wine the nasal negative the chirp the coo ungelant murderous yell not daddy's
intermittent gravel soothing grass noises composed by 99 101
an Duncan murmured two voices 보이be am bloomous, and it was not the sound he'd Wakled,


The true friend's talking the esa formed a saying
it says "...州다 compulsory,
Voices of empty music, tissues of memories,
I can't. I can't. I can't.
I can't. I can't.
I can't. I can't.
I can't. I can't.