by Vanessa Vie

Song of the Firebird
     to M.H.

I fell in Love with a bird
I am in Love with a Firebird
“Put your colours against the sky
Discover who you are”

Bird bird oh Free bird
Our Love poem is not written yet
Unwritten unbidden in True Love’s realm

So allons! mon ami   — the time has come
Winter is here and we won’t be alone.

by Anselm Berrigan

I’ve an invigorated withdrawal
In nurture posing as signatory

To certain accounts — can they
And do they.  Canned they

& done they & smoked they
& hocked they & bitched they

& lasted they & bewildered
A film about the bear

Proposing to bear down
Yielding to simplicity & wrongness

Goes off, turning away.  A do
Wrong, brimming with liquidity

Oh I don’t want to hold & sever
If you love me you’ll stop talking

The tube shaped like a doughnut
You slide into has frequency

Photos of inward structure you
Get insurance not to see, & shit

Not like the shit like milk to pick
Up on the smoky walk back to pad

& rent & crib & bunker & zone
& that & no & naw & more & no

by Anselm Berrigan

I no longer wish
To contribute to
The communal anxiety
The practitioners of no
Two-something and six
Let me see your scrapes
You want ice
There’s no ice here
You want a treat?
It’s not treat day
Sit on foot, bounce
It starts to fall off
If you don’t put on
Your coat, your tushy
Will turn to ice & fall off
Food full of additives of
No interest to the outlines
Staining what we call
Our pavement when
I stick it to work
Don’t leave says
The pull on arm

by Anselm Berrigan

How are we doing
notationally speaking?
We are feeling conspicuous
No amount of crypto-hasho
forear / blackbear
fiddling will make us not
have to get up
& pee while high
in this death to explosions
bean scenery underlay
Writing Anselm imitations
in a fucking cafe.  Space goes
here.  Approximate length
of limit stops behind, distraught
at not having hand held
Original crumbs wiped
off original arm