Excessive Stress                                                 Send me another invasion                                       the articulation of the acres already compressed                                                   prominence of cheese                                    Lost in or What did the Skeptics say about the Epicureans?                                                    community web while tangled                                                        let's talk about                                    Seeds of initial perception feather your lapel                                                     we hold our beat                                                Sinking into a body each a deep blue                                     In language's beauty                                                    all prayers plucked apart                                                             An allegorical rescue and resuscitation                                              Doesn't want to know what                                                            things assembled have disappeared                                           The books touches the reader in joy                                                         All it wants                                                                  in the half-light                                          "We now become a real copulation"                                                          prior prisoners incapable of everyday                                          Right to destroy anyone who stands in the way                                                          King Solomon                                                                 waiting on his knees                                                falls catastrophically from the outside                                                                                 sick of it all                                                                        the lite persimmon, the jealousy . . .                                                              Make this opposite to "back to the people"                                               A deserted house                                 crushed sums in burnt sugar                                                                 why whisper the loss of life                                                In every mind the cheese walks                                   Do you think the money's real?                                           there's plenty                                                          Come here again -- love, grievance, travel                                                  Evanescence                                              No aura given special names                                                              nothing emote                                                  Recital of talent's fast finale                                                          Quietly came to its end                                             It has no mysterious virtue                                                       the crushed sentence, the permanence                                                     of where you are now