Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Bound: Volume One, indexing in progress

INDEX of Authors, Titles & First Lines

Individual pieces within this volume are listed alphabetically by title, or by first line if the piece does not bear a title. First lines or titles that appear more than once are followed by a second distinguishing line as a subentry: This is what it is like to be loved by me / again. Titles are alphabetized by first word, excluding articles: Stone That Produces Milk, The.

Any Day Bill
Apple Bottoms Etc. When You Are Ready the Conversation Is Waiting
A the Beaut
Boho Wrapper
B®and Loyalty
Dear Harriet,
Dear Harriet Tubman, 
How is it to be buried under the singular displeasure of the sentence?
I want to use your body for my own pleasures.
Dear Moses,
Dear Mrs. Tubman,
Definition of Destruction

Direct Address
Everything Matters
Experience starts with the guh.
my clit perks and waves to the sun!
Please excuse, I’m trying to arc at the moment
This is a poem I did not write: 
Harryette Mullen,
I know for certain
Image Union
Insurgent Country
It’s Dark or Whatever You Call It
I Was a Water Ballerina
Less Finesse, More Spank
Living the Secret
Monday Pizza $9.99
More Lyrics for My Favorite Band
Language is a type-o-trash & I’m uncertain about the concept of nonviolence
New, Not Blue
No Country for Young Ladies
On the Night Before TV Goes Digital
Pavarotti Lip-Synched Last Performance
People Are Saying Things Again
Plot Point Two
Red Arrow Down
*scenes from the lives of my parents
& boy meets girl—he is a lifeguard—she is reading
curtains swell from the windows & fill
he was dressed like a smurf (it made the protest
libel & the matter
my father shaved his head in order to write
my mother asked the midwife to place
on your way to the mess hall a truck
secondly, that the body, taking in the shoulders, makes still
Shakespeare makes the closet scene more dramatic by including the
she said
she said I love you
she said nice hands
she said to whom do you speak this?
she was coming back from a break—two agents
they arrived on the SS Willehad in Fells Point, Baltimore on 4/11/07.
they met in the first Voynich study group (1944–46) in which text was
they were old school—messages
when I was six I played by myself & drank
when presented with the word puzzles
So Many Churches for Sale. Moving? Why Building?
Stone That Produces Milk, The
Superlatively Derogatory Colloquial Epithet, Shammy, The
That sentence can sustain all this
There’s a terror that we will love
30 Years Happy Birthday Anyway
This is what it is like to be loved by me
amoeba prokaryote goo in a stew of organic compounds.
A poem of only observation and you observing
as best as I can tell based on what it has been like to be loved
as daily practice.
asking a question that is supposed to be answered with
as Rimbaud said—You’s another.
but I’m not me!
by my beard hairs, which are longer than usual, growing
carrying around a tiny container of nutella which I
chaos and anarchy, freedom and bliss, two versions of the
danger danger every itch feels reasonable.
driving over the edge of the corniche and floating in the
if my breath went down into my stomach and my food
in a dark forest midway through my life.
in another city where decisions turn into money and Peer
in a pool on the seam where the shallow end meets the
in the Odyssey when most of the time in the epic is
in the periphery, everywhere your eye is, isn’t.
I say as the spotlight I shine in the mirror illuminates
once the light that cut through the fog has stopped cuttting
on the edge of the ocean or in the middle of the ocean,
on the run.
on the Trans-Siberian Railway, which takes six days to
question mark
summed up in a single word that is neither adjective nor
thising and ising and whating and inging.
total Romeo total Peer.
translated from grammar into arithmetic and agriculture.
under many ticking clocks, for there are many clocks if
wait, wait, deletions.
what it’s like to be what it is like.
writing a poem of not you.
What is happening here is a positioning:
Why Not Minot?
Windows are what make domesticity seem picturesque, in that windows make scuplture
Your art controls you by brining up private
Your art controls you by putting you down all the
Your art controls your emotions by using body

Your art withholds information from you, and

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