Bob Harrison

C o u p       S t i c k s

Readme Online Chapbook #3

January 2001

All text and image copyright © 2001 by Bob Harrison.


Direction: door packet HULL, seed home

poured through the street of

nine chains, balls of fire that move

their Ese by pachuco sides. crusted iron

on the signal bearer — seas worn under

divided husks, the snake that believes

its field searches in deliverable dust, the ware

stolen through undivided homes … plate wheel

running sidelong WHEN porpoises drink

the wet owned filter hand, the pealed RUN

beside a spherical field — change the top of Mexico

inside warring, cohort in Mutual Aid, ant mind

spinning an X bearing drum. cranes borrow you

in shepherds, in simple blown-up saddles under

the Wood divided heel, where plates are mineral

and sacks believe in hand willing towels, they are

knowing ADD, shadow the clone by numbered tongues

and peal THEN, seal around corrupted shreds, sack



change borrowed panther cave

drag pears to a WHILE lane, walk stains through your pressing

nipples … 3 shoulders bring the Sun to walk beside bridges, blue herons

corn up shores and place a face on concrete shallows, Slashed fields

by the fish that power down their eggs and incubate a bird into their Wing

What isn't shared: LAN waiting cold, the heads of your instrument, hated

dream shredder hasn't poured its Ears by known sinks or Step then has NO

heart, horse hoof wading the blood red spear, drops of Clouded heights

walk down to tips, drones darkness into A provided hand. wheel stone

graves up through its memory, trains move slow into these walls that squeeze

breath from their bone sockets: crutch, split left in the vestibule, shagging

the radio reminded Post, the NOT together rain, the space aligns and grates

through spared running, dripping ghosts in these sinking dust roads: pour feathers

around the tar wind, into Present flames and stolen spines, the road weary muscle

creams around bottom scales and steams the cloud, the spit balm is rolled in

and poured through bird's head relief. they were standing, looking straight to wood



sun dial report

shared whale with their approach to suns
of the long hatch, fallen sample of eggs
to quicken their magic silence, soft petal
makes this aggression like the material
of known stones. chase this rake to the world
of underwater lessons, ranking fossils to the moon
deserted in thin ghetto lakes. detached
and motioning the present onion peeled to reason
dishes, wrestle doors into the bending height
that speaks to turning car wheels freezing their
attention on the brittle fire of ground and skull
returns. chasing all their rabbits, field assessed
like bombs incurred while youth improved
the silence, forcing balls into wet sand



rock hard pins

they are a rock hard Spanish olive, a parched and smiling

desert blowing in this tub lit soap. they are a finished groan,

a borrowed timepiece throwing dirt into the air and chasing

ends that wait all over stopped and whistling trains. two feet

smiling, dusty ends in parachuted plates, that softened fisher

swimming in their dusted Opera, screams inserted in their

sheets and bleating tanks increased until the younger years

inside their eyes are blanking, forming one. the shepherd groan,

the shimmering intention that has any flying saucer color won

through tongue filled cups and hands wiped falling through the sky.

what once its meaning was to shape the desert rake, the moment

in this record that believes when others might detour or blame

their automatic grins on ashen rent and whittled ice … riot where

an opening is powdering intention, fashion where an eagle licks

the softened rain beside my aromatic aisle and sandy weeks dissolved

to weep. all the animals that heave its fiction into western rattles,

seep its rented ash like suns entombed in cages under beeping oceans

holding any time and nothing twined together with an open stick



panel throat intent

placed fear with an ointment on the shield, wearing
dust covered feathers, lord done to BEGIN hand signals —
finishing head on headlights, pairs main the throat, shear
beckons rivers in sieves and bridges that catapult the head
to another short rate wheel, bone shattered cranes around
owls and blue herons — bits on a warning sheet, sail through
these face patterned doors, wicks, slot bottoms coal up
horizons on an earthquake & pony sleight, slim poles wear
waits in the beacon the wet shop saddle light is folding on
group saddles, same talk saw buzz into standing dunes
as the seeds mint a find, field loss présent roads on feet to
rain sound outside THEN sewn feet, pumice fingers as flight
wrinkled bite that freezes what one sold as corn, THEN shows
TABLES drawn to chemistry as cold with notes boat up

better plastic rain this air fall lozenge with the oxygen bent hat
renew around WHEN family thrown head together sewn, skull wrap
dew slides beside the flint pocket, shingle rides pickup, sharpened wood
that effort burns. rote BASIC cart medina, shepherd radial aligned in
mutual aid, the frozen base, the open shelter maze that carts its help
around decrepit streams, fit crumpled germs and heal its stacks



searching under piles of leaves

chain ball hallowed rows, its West is channeled-throwing-born instead of
sang with borrowed drawers, way easy with their something aggravated
by the council, horses torn in nails and pieces warning its degraded hail
to pick the news. empty thorns, the possible along round boulders helping
fields entrust with notes outside this open fetter, shimmering with service
faces, ball the rattled poise with incubated shelters up around the bend and
quickly mark a hull with its one turn, the wing that heals. pilfered heads
in separate tunnels, picking their protectorate from hardened throats that will
what counted each to hand or packets with its ache, the stomach thrown
toward singing — once beheaded lambs. the indian poured inside an opening
that cuts an easy shirt, a possible attunement hired to promise their reminded
sashes, politics in Curly solvents soared through finished clouds, dissected
skinners, something cold that holds their stone around the sky that wasn't flat
and with its simple coasts, the acrobatic stone, the skipping surface of the war

crowds were proven that they weren't dismounted, or that the sky was
brittle, ported, shaking like the pile of leaves i found you under … looking for the
cars. apache helicopters turning into skies, full fathom fish around inside,
the stood in wood, garage doors on the knock, the screens that wouldn't shelter
my integrated messages from me to LINES, the spray, in looking for her once
and every day. i'd never borrowed any tires, my services were lost, the war
was on (to find in love …)



frame relay lift: button pro

WHERE LONG sheets in shack metal
drones Moroccan shoes, dust in the bus
that shivers the crane backing river … MOVE
stolen bells, a shoulder blade lines up in flight
filling night in fat blown stars, over suit ripped …
seems that the winnowing sheet has crumpled
their motion car beside wearing a thin plastic gem
that trinkles its trade through blues huts and metric
wheels, sold washes a spear button pick with feathers
around the amputee that haywire office plane keeps
WHILE in its peninsular rock, weather, grate callous
mixed with metal canteens IF steam rains without
the cat bar sticking gold in finger tips sharp and ready …

plain machine wrecks the ball lays on their ratio paint
with arrival goals that picket whorls and wooden birds
shimmering a glass rod that quickly rolls a posted grill
inside a word-mouth willing its delayed arrival in a tight
in stream that fits their washing train, the woven road
increases its stood up alert beside a circular retry with lips
that speak their bony torn width on one shoulder spun
with easy ripples fit with Sets poured in the lit up flame



peel your heart with rocks: stood on mountainous bits

the wheel is made of bones. hands put by the side of the rocket shape
hear their delivering face (without marks) the smooth face of changes that
every day has full of them. shapes warp their beaming throats that other
fires increase around a pocketed slide — gravel, long rimmed stacks that push
a pile of smoke to fill the air, winking blank and together. paces the wood.
finishes around a grotto, poured wind. handling the snake to provide more
sealed blinders toward a match settled crate, cock fight. on the way to jungle
stick figured authority in its plain shotgun stack standing by windows, to mark
the handling chest. make warning the square, changing frozen rain through the
rain-child in separate hulls, fit a motion in sitting lanes and coasts, wave, salt …

beam the little light through Stop warnings and the shoe. wrung with Nothing
steam in their wild night fashion that pills nectar through its smashed glass
standing with deer wheels streaming knowledge licks an open stain
to unsettle forced winds and meteor stacks. weak lungs ride the gust of tunneled
fists that overly stiff windows stay up to wheel in night time radio waves. hear
the unknown material shaking the wash



batch late hoe graph

the Save can qualify your nostril's breath, stigmata
shimmering around the stone abyss that reasons with a standing
flesh, quicker waves than what the borrowed sheet has torn
to open up nocturnal answers, fields of burrowed ice that reel
pronouncing through the last 3 days of life: pouring telephones
into the wheel that sings its liquid into seminal, waded out
the desert, shrinking through a plastic glade when numbers rain
their fix into a gas light pock, inside of turning brooms, replied
that wishes freeze their ashes, fill up hearts into a spitting lung
remembering the white word telescoping in its string, called
in automatic crates … the beaver damn is shimmering beside
a gangster's hull, the ship her mother drank beside Alaskan
racks and whirling faces put to stone. feel the mark beside your
foot, the weaker lung bouncing the ball and skipping time

without its shine. wheel the rain day through the batch that wore
its ashes in the car's intended pit, the place it buried its amount
of bone, wheeling all their microscopic mouths into a palm delayed
and ruining the feet that once collected listening, in tombs, too late
that soaring, frosted heels forget their smaller starts



shamble nut: plastic heart: a doorway's urban curb

FROM dozens 0n hat sharing day-couples, that orifice cleanses
its light beaming throat to wean a fur lean bend around thatches, cross
parallel soap, simple fire by the wayside, highway dressed and corrupted
around prog. nettles and park feet, way to bring the borrowed sun down
to a piston grope, tense picket the plains, germs that a stomach has on down
hat together and waning through another point, wreak their drum. jeep sound
into a pocket sore, another rail swimming its face borrowed and wet, place
full of thorns and wrong chickens, legions on the post that wills its form
burning fort stems, shattered air ships and frost beat the headless shadow
that wins an off steel menu pulse, winter, stains beside snow hills and blood
patters... the most packed up herd of horses, a posse now spread, veining
through hawk paths and shirt pains. paint the wall down into mineral ports
behind the unknown tooth, the willing pleat shouldering beside silent prints

in swarms. let her off through the background tunnel, changeling soft thief
and sucker pond. they were traced, screamed past the harbored stillness, into
an open stone, chipping its blood-loss into cream stitches, night, walked through
past danger and into a promised BLANK to heart, sod to heart, paint through
faces in this stone foot trail

[Back to Readme]