Excessive Stress

                                                Send me another invasion
                                      the articulation of the acres already compressed
                                                  prominence of cheese
                                   Lost in or What did the Skeptics say about the Epicureans?
                                                   community web while tangled
                                                       let's talk about
                                   Seeds of initial perception feather your lapel
                                                    we hold our beat
                                               Sinking into a body each a deep blue
                                    In language's beauty
                                                   all prayers plucked apart
                                                            An allegorical rescue and resuscitation
                                             Doesn't want to know what
                                                           things assembled have disappeared
                                          The books touches the reader in joy
                                                        All it wants
                                                                 in the half-light
                                         "We now become a real copulation"
                                                         prior prisoners incapable of everyday
                                         Right to destroy anyone who stands in the way
                                                         King Solomon
                                                                waiting on his knees
                                               falls catastrophically from the outside
                                                                                sick of it all                            
                                           the lite persimmon, the jealousy . . .
                                                             Make this opposite to "back to the people"
                                              A deserted house
                                crushed sums in burnt sugar
                                                                why whisper the loss of life
                                               In every mind the cheese walks
                                  Do you think the money's real?
                                          there's plenty
                                                         Come here again -- love, grievance, travel
                                             No aura given special names
                                                             nothing emote
                                                 Recital of talent's fast finale
                                                         Quietly came to its end
                                            It has no mysterious virtue
                                                      the crushed sentence, the permanence
                                                    of where you are now