everyone knows something nobody else does 


the Proletariat and Bourgeoisie both want 
the same thing in different hands

For She who made my Hands so wide
As to construct the Earth --
Fertile Soil, deep Core inside
'midst Rings of Fated Birth --


As Fingers bend and Elbows bow
Small Muscles write all Life --
Together might an Army now
Script Serenity from Strife --


Dexterity, your Urgency
Marks Right in Place of Wrong --
To render This, Will moves between 
The mute Fright and a Song --


Until the Day your Hands are Mine
Beneath this blessed Dirt --
No Universe or Grand Design
Shall do a greater Work --

you can use the bottom scroll bar
to keep your privacy, move to the right
and I no longer see your old photograph

so easy to slip by these days
save for those who volunteer permeability
and get caught on every hook

penetrable and retentive,
all these holes would make a great wall whimper
weak in the smallest way

startled by any other
one flake buoys one flake farther
satellite to satellite, just as intimate

for chocolate cake, a sliver
is quite a spirit lifter
the cacao seeds deliver
a sweeter taste of nature
through snows in our late winter
our minds begin to splinter
with care we should consider
for chocolate cake, a sliver

where is the where is the community
each of these is an approach that many many other people have
expressed alone with one name on it
i think this is better or
the moral issue is not the main one, how it is expressed
is the orbit once more 'round our beloved sun!
eat an aesthetic for pretty politics
the world in coloring books
is better for being optional

how did Christopher Walken get so weird
we're just immaterial girls in our immaterial world
until you say "Jew hair" like its an affliction
i can't abide by your determinations
i can only promise to take care of you incompetently
the way that Art keeps together moments of subjectivity
associated with singular experiences

many many pleasures
some reading pleasures but if you like stupid
there's a simple, closer connectivity
from my mind to your mind
those little works about work

and others
for loving you
cheaply, soberly,
without discrimination
thinking more would cost more
than i'd ever want to spend on this

hello, Arianna Huffington
she is so beautiful
but you are the one
who will tell me about her later

my name moniker cognomen and soubriquet is Eugene Owens
I am featured prominently elsewhere
I eat a lot of fruit and people have seen me do it
I know what bottled water brands are exclusively available at airports
I see lavatory as the sexy way to indicate where I disburthen myself of raddled minerals
I have no friends
Everyone knows me, but I have been executed
I do the do-gooding I can do beyond the grave
Here is an example of my work:

i love you
how are you doing
you are my best friend
i miss you very much
you are so special
it's not the same without you
when are you coming back
you're the best
i care so deeply
if i did, i didn't try, did i?
false positives are worse than negatives
your cough sounds magnificent like life and shit rainbows
sincerely
E. Owens

maple-flavoured beef jerky
and a cold without gloves
the "ain't no match for"
that kind of match, that day
some dallying provided for
by all unfamiliar space
and seasonal inflammations
of the overcoat industry

we walked
and where and when we walked
into what and who we walked
abreast and unaligned we walked
debunked and demonstrative

such that significance
became a signifier for
a fire for solicitation
so illicit in extremes
whores heave in the seams

going on and et cetera
the wolves were skinned
pinned through their noses
to decorate base instruments
with shock therapy

pulling them together, arms around
pelts and fingers
around quartz crystals
it could be the jungle or
your receipt

i love you i love you i love you i love you
i love you i love you i love you i love you
i love you i love you i love you i love you
i love you i love you i love you i love you
i love you i love you i love you i love you
i love you i love you i love you i love you
i love you i love you i love you i love you
i love you i love you i love you i love you

see it
but is it
to be what it is
to be seeing it

and we began and we
began and we began
what do i need to press
three little flash movies and one
helluva global myth you can
stowaway in an airplane

the war in the hills for the hills

good taste is a gold medal
black around her like a sponge
she, the air and a monster
that belongs to both of them
say that was beautiful
then there's a lot of standing around

the coming at the end for the end

if mother wanted you
to hide your tits
you would have been
born in a t-shirt

make yourself easy
all of them act poor
when you get there
it's bourgeois as fuck

mountaintop sweet silence
rural and sweet and silent
the perfect amount of mustard
percolation confused for thunder
the first time surprise
the ride all the way up

when there was no ear to lend
you sang to the dirt
as your mother sang to you
you to your body
your body to the earth
treatment for a patience
the skin and the blood
one life and what is beside it
besides life what is it
that stalks behind the day

skin and hair at the finish line
skin not enclosing but enclosed
hair like weeds and cuticles
the parade makes another circle

My heart my mother my heart my mother
My heart my coming into being
My heart is mine in the place of hearts,
They gave me back my heart, it lies in me

I have gained mastery over my heart
I have gained mastery over my two hands
I have gained mastery over what is over
I have gained mastery over what is

I open out a way, they have covered my sky with crystal
I come forth by day, I am born a second time,
I force a way through, and I know the gate
I shall journey over the earth among the living

He shall not be diminished, never;
I shall give a mouth to my son
It was a mask when I wrote of God
It was myself unable to speak

sometimes nature says
relax, don't you know
it's only school after all