awakening 2 by Alan Bern
Peeled himself. Not as gently as he could have. Oh tool. What kind of curve around was that? But on he’d gone. And then. Presently then he’d punctured into a bad then, where many sat and many others talked out. Without cease.
Without an single quiet. They all meant. But that wasn’t/was not.
It.
His intention‘d cleft. And none released. Stuck. Stuck it. Stucking. Stuck on. The interlude deceased. O, whoa. When his journey upstarted, his alone was gone. Wind came. Hail! too. Rain. Mess wet. With a pleaser.
Come around heretown they’d him begged the New traveller fellows.
My.
they all ‘d’marked. Time. Time. ‘dcome in. Uninvited now. But came. Blaze back Sun said. Did. And when an man can. Ran. For the odd exorcise or twos lungly. Miss and Mysterious hands held. One on another’s. His zealousy determined. No one one was emphatical.
Power shoutages dammed zee quarter-infinite bees.
Next.
Retired children’s librarian Alan Bern’s poetry books: No no the saddest and Waterwalking in Berkeley, Fithian Press; greater distance and other poems, Lines & Faces, his press with artist Robert Woods, linesandfaces.com. He has won awards for both his poems and stories. Alan is also a photographer; and he performs with dancer/choreographer Lucinda Weaver as PACES: dance & poetry fit to the space and with musicians from Composing Together, composingtogether.org.