Tara my Anti-Christ

my anti-christ papers are a bit of no Structure work illusion
such is a stamp-collection

of no character (and not all who apply
to no such thing
lists) of lightnings
tulips
apples
and thunder numbers 9, 3 and 6

a sequence of female mathematics
a post mortem honorary degree like
flowers for the one I have loved and
played at the imaginary vampire
duck walk-cake or money show of
the Universal idea thing who

saves by building prim and proper
 and not a school government or cancer
I wish I were a librarian lord of the earth
so some day a string of data, books, desks, and lamps
could be all mine

So I wrote about this Tara-girl
and her name was: A Collection Accountant in Kitty Litters
She was Christian hippy and was
Sharply singing the praises of Obama and
Henry Kissinger, and Othello
In her bare feet--

I gave her some of
these machinepoems
which are just nature's way of statements
to the ordinary star system--or deep errors
in pocketbooks and modern houses selling
my anti-christ papers
She had me singing in circles

It could have been worse
Tara could have colored herself
 with blackness and French
stuff