ditch,

the poetry that matters

Sam Pittman

Sam Pittman lives in Pittsburgh, PA, where he teaches English language, composition, and writing. He received an MFA from the University of Pittsburgh and a BA from UC Berkeley.

 

May


A sun reinvented rolled into bed this morning
A mouth soon full as we painted and stood
Hour upon hour the damp and lilting presentiment
I had of beams cracked under low ceiling
Our heads bashing as lights outside blink out
Order. A green and grey blanket in the broadest
Three fifty newspaper with shots of nothing
Just bright as morning we would have to
Buy more yellow this star could report it received
Wrapped in tissue something already wet and new







Daily


Whatever it means. Mean. Whatever it means it means. If I think of a jay. I think of a
bird when I think of a jay. Whatever. Whatever it.

If man takes off his shirt, I will. Whatever. I will have when the shirt is gone. The hair
is all but intrusive. I will. All men say all men have.

All my man. Is to know. Whatever, he knows whatever will freeze in the present. In the
presence of me, my men. It means the presence of a parcel. A long engagement, what
ever.

Everyday. The day is the take off the shirt. Put the shirt over the bird, the whatevery-
day. I mean the only without. The presence of the without, whatever out. Weave part-
filled into without. He knows, whatever it is. Is it.

Whatever is a piece. Under the nails, a what will put the ever over. I know the I think, it
is the think of the ever present. Odd situation. Feeling the shirt over the freeze, I know.
I feel the piece of whatever. I know the parcel of an engagement. Means it’s present.







Storm System


Creates something more antiquated.
Antiquated farmhouse faint in glisten.
Glisten, rested, after riting.
Riting flutters behind first stages.

Staged offenses design other wounding.
Wounding, festered, disguising boyhood.
Boyhood orders predate contemporary text.
Text disposing overflow after men, tearing, extract.

Extracted fluids bathing inquiries, stationed without.
Without haven expressions, layer every tissue.
Tissue gives folded subjects forcing representation.
Representation, no primogeniture, phantasm, rescinded pages.

Paginated reference, repeat backturn shaken.
Shaken, reflected upon postures, marvel forward.
Forward peeling lower areas, present, delta regions.
Regions dramatic overturn, pasted under photographs.








Study

 

I pull the bird off the mantle. Nothing happens. The stalactites threaten to turn me hunchback, your muscles will stay here. My cave burns out. Hairs catch fire, too. Nothing happens.

Nothing happens when I shake the plaice eating my arm off me. Nothing happens to the plot of grass you netted once a little hare breaks in. I pull it off the mantle, the stalagmites threaten to hunchback me, nothing goes, really. Moustache catches fire and never grows again nothing happens when my cave burns out, too. Nothing happens when I twist the rope around my ankles.

Whatever made me cross-stitched the pores of my skin white, so horizon shifts degrees north from where I live inside this rock. A lot of nothing. I live inside because it is better not to live outside. Unless it is better not to live inside where brother’s bones were stripped and strung with thread the animals could play.







Hart

Grab my horns and ride them. Grab and ride them wielding weapon. The shine around, just outside the rim. Outside is burning. Grab my horns and ride them rattle rough on brawny branches. Hands powdered in and out the castoff hard to ready white and silver bluing cheeks and knuckles. My head and horns are the back of my horns when I lap up the shine of a lake. The cake of dusted hands and quickly crumble. At the rim I fold over the horns ride into my water cleans them.







Cold History #2


The current sometimes carries drift ice to the northern and eastern shores. There was an interest in the sea, but still, in the southern lowlands, serving the farming region, was the largest inland rural community.

We are young and wide, respectively.

Our dreams. You’ll never believe it.

 

Cold History #3
   

Because the country is a tableland broken up by structural faults, the center is uninhabited. There are no reptiles or amphibians.

A landscape of rugged splendor every day. He found a body. This shows commitment. I gave a man my arms and legs and all, we pulled out every last hair, and by that time the first had reappeared. The seeds were ready in the ducks’, that of the largest and most varied colony, guts. We made a square with wide stakes, strung it off, and here there was digging with implements, chose a young bird, and required extensive fertilization.

After the Reformation the royal treasury confiscated all lands and moneys that had belonged to the common monastery. Eventually, we directed interest toward the sea.

 

Cold History #4
   

As might be suspected, most karst topography, which is characterized by sinkholes and underground drainage, occurs in areas underlain by limestone.

I could stow him under the moss, still a little dirty. The space between the plants and the rock underneath is deep enough to insulate sound.


 

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                                                                                                      September 14, 2012