Thomas Lowe Taylor -- A G O N

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He weeped to the spreading tree
answering no claims within destiny
however figured into the silence
nor spent nor enflamed, hour of

Diction of the slug, pentacle fin
at who'd been at, say, in wonder,
or habitat plenty hot to break it
out outer the planet skims and flits

Sulfur into the mark's orange fluxer
I'm at hoe, nixed in the plenty scorn
from hucks, from the petty donging
leaks the doorway spoon and functional

To Puck, the nerdo particulate homer
ink, listo-profundo, into the karmic stain
to carry on, lugging guts and spastic
sinker, plenty, noxious not alone ing

"To argue before him" arbiter, vocal
lane of the evening trees cooling out
warms these notes themselves affixed
lanes her doors open wide enclaimants

One who floats from the sea before you
arising within substants the eye of love
lingering ride of the floating pool again
answering echoes from other layers of time

Ruxto-bold no matter masks purplish dye
the marker yields touch again and line
what to spoke the ringing hour at hand
pulls you upward attains the day afar

Links pore tomb nor skin ragging doubts
where's love'd douche the hearts flower
day day in side what hammer poles arcs
lighted moto plenitude returns longing

Scores arriving upward flung healing tie
the duo, foment dies dying out laughters
affirmed return lining the tear aside in
side the tears floating inside her warm

Do you enter slowly dealing flame return
spiraling lights the day when at linger
too late for the dream, too far for the day
pounding out new hard returns all the way

Skip the bolt's blues lead away too soon
fixer door skip late laning fuck dome pal
ah, the roamer's foaming pin, a suck done
too late longing's loam, the heart's due

Hucks to deal, the newer arm's own longing
to be real, er, reeler due down dunes to
what's door not again agon the winner's due
no winter in this discontent's longing's last

So what passioned-out your name arrived
in time in time's tune toward semblances
dames docs another coil leaning down the
ages weaving terms too far to lean away

Random dusks their owner lining doubts
too far to seem away or not at all here
in within your own leaning away too long
answering yet again the loader's spinster

Here in dog goad it, you'll find its tone
"Shine like it does" down within you find
it holding water's waning donut compacted
show there at the loco bomb high traffic in

To the end of town where the packers drive
that's in the signer's motive kneeing dust
losing like thieves, but who's in back now,
listen like thieves for the answers, hands

Right of the triangle do it on your self
let the poor man wet all in your hands
zilch day fix nay shuckers deal the deal
not singing but flying afar and not return

What'd you feel encoded deep within something
pray the single spasm not reclining who's
year the prey kneels single does and more
the player the. pool knows just like a poodle

Major knot not's the fool his angle dealing
dicks their pinner dude his flailing ankle
doubts into self the plainer sin no mention
of it's plenty nor range nor motions without

Your own disturbant naugahyde peels potatoe
cunts ducks the rare outer foil of latitude
the forger in his mucks deals no other win
nay the finger in your dike spells disaster

Dream-resistant skin ganks danger out there
in her mists peeling clothing off and dropping
the floor the meat rising discussed inaction
her flavor rich to the entering eye you said

Humper dine suppertime now's the dime
lates sandwich the range of all time
decrease or wedge into itself tightly
spooling nothing ahead again for naught

Who wrote without pity and said little
else than what's penetrando the heart's
belittle now and them is Too real now
buttressed and calm to hold the forms

No respect. Warden art the fool's errand
no patter in the attic, but calm a head
would stutter the former alcoholic's doom
deemed dusk or dust, but held and firm

A heart is aching still within but not
said too soon again would smother the
lanes and lines of what'd held you back
in the singing time of what was lost

But let go into the seeming of the present
and scolded like one's self into the light
he spins, the mooning sign of what'd been
left behind in the haste to depart the scene

The smallest things pervade, describe
or hoard detail into mountainous poverty
laps of the deal sparking darker moons
to ride arise arrived into what's sweaty

Her crotch tongued in intent intense sum
of the dealer's own strong wine-healing
hope of the arks derider plunging vine at
the holder, at the archer, at the seasoning

7.13.96