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Dawn Pendergast

 

 

AUDIO

 

 

Who art

 

 

our father is putting butter in issues

of fruit of pears and apples, oranges our father

is apparent and even

suspended a little he flicks

small geometries out,  grapes out

of their situations

if our father were our client

he would say

follow the collander and follow

we would flipping around remember

the literal PDF of mown lawn our father

is so kind even when left un-“towards”

as they say in the kitchen riddle me

and I will oh don’t you worry

about all knowing brownies,

boxed drinks,  pulling fast our tripward longing

so that it comes apart in white waves

all the worse for these sufferings, pushy and cloud-

like we ski, ski, ski

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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earth day poem

 

 

god said secrets are stupid and then he created earth he flushed one for number one two for two he made a buzzard machine he folded the sea together he unfolded it gave us architecture, word, made us wait for what he created lies he hallowed his own name when you think about it he volleys us on jesses and we are paper squares we breathe up eat earth but come back, we do, to his leather hands he said so so we try to say so the wind picks up water oaks our grandparents die we wonder if everything’s already been said if ideas are exercises the way of the worm is the way of god the earth is an interface we likes not knowing we dislikes not knowing we itches in ditches foretold us

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Turtle Work

 

 

One out of

every three

turtles even

swimming
is one in one

out of one one

turtle
his black

back up

is even

keel, smooth

is as it turtles

to, fro

one fin

at times

fin as ever

swip on-

ward ponder

he is a shoe

in turns on

takes off

it spits

heaven knows

whose thoughts

are whose

chewing
in murky glaze

what a tuner

one is turning

the radio on

after noon

radio on

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Be a Chooser, Go

 

 

Hey bay for us today & carrion

the market collapses takes us in / grants

one dance one only see us newt

bright green collapse the little air

therein                  rays of heaven headed us

are hairs / ends / days / mists /

pale discrepancies. us stands for us

in the stippled presence of half-things, junk,

a squirrel stinging his tail gold / capital rays / a hologram

that's activity running along  light, essayic / laces us up

w/ little bones, commas, sticks—

The hairs of the lord be curls

of pollen erroneous melodies sheesh

the helm falters in the wet leaves / we rakes

we cards / we liquid piffle standing water

 

 

 

 

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