ee are a maran key shon
lay may ugh
flet sey ogre un parti
ey wey
.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Slimmer Rick's Bar Americain
O wailing gorilla who danced
while at his fat mama he glanced
crikey hey look at me
he criked from his tree
I'm almost quite every advanced
.
while at his fat mama he glanced
crikey hey look at me
he criked from his tree
I'm almost quite every advanced
.
this earthly tic
this ran orange alert
by the castle
but really that guy was dead
three hours ago
they stood around watching
a car in a lake
Jacques Brel sounding off insanely
in some astral dance hall
nothing now but standing
and going home
just to be sure
one fat monkey puts a gun to his head
and laughs
jumps on the roof
waves his ass
you want to talk philosophy with me
you'll need a dirty towel
.
by the castle
but really that guy was dead
three hours ago
they stood around watching
a car in a lake
Jacques Brel sounding off insanely
in some astral dance hall
nothing now but standing
and going home
just to be sure
one fat monkey puts a gun to his head
and laughs
jumps on the roof
waves his ass
you want to talk philosophy with me
you'll need a dirty towel
.
cool nun
I am a monk in a tree
with a gun in my ass
a cool nun holds the trigger
this is nothing but my latest attempt
to enter Space as an amateur
I am Wan Hu and I do this with devotion
of course I fucked her first
plied her with extracts
plied her
and inveigled her into the position
but now get real
my time has come
I love everything
everything is nothing
love is a slight panda that starves
slow and mild and bite unconvinced
I am not unconvinced
I am Wan Hu
my heart is in the stars
sister it is time
our love is of the stars
feed my shattered hide to the pigs
of the monastery of Wan len Fu
his pigs are devoted and will eat with care
midnight flutes will play
along the eastern wall
see my detachments
cool nun
fuck
.
with a gun in my ass
a cool nun holds the trigger
this is nothing but my latest attempt
to enter Space as an amateur
I am Wan Hu and I do this with devotion
of course I fucked her first
plied her with extracts
plied her
and inveigled her into the position
but now get real
my time has come
I love everything
everything is nothing
love is a slight panda that starves
slow and mild and bite unconvinced
I am not unconvinced
I am Wan Hu
my heart is in the stars
sister it is time
our love is of the stars
feed my shattered hide to the pigs
of the monastery of Wan len Fu
his pigs are devoted and will eat with care
midnight flutes will play
along the eastern wall
see my detachments
cool nun
fuck
.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
cinquain
eyes out
on two long stalks
the lecherous old pig
frequents the local student bar
for gawks
.
on two long stalks
the lecherous old pig
frequents the local student bar
for gawks
.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
a ghazal for wide red elision/elysium
lugeto veneres cupidinesque—Catullus
as in a tabula raga/rasa that off with
the fairies drifted through much fog—No One
Molon Labe—Terse Laconics in Hypotaxis
a curious liberation in this announcement
of the Platonic footing all the night
I felt in her that fairies had taken me
I strapped my new feet and thought of fire
eating up the houses all around
their faces pressed against windows
but in this I am not predatory
and would abandon a chase if a slow gazelle
turned with haha heaving breast to demand there be a rest
but still, still
the fire creeps down the houses
and who could believe
in that little box
that no one of us had thought in the fire's steep
and thought still in our sleep
of how it might be
if the gazelle the ghazal had been quickened
in all of its rhymes in its hindquarter chimes
till the breath that flew there
the claws that there grew
fastened all through her hair
in the rain-steeps I am learning
to be mellif as all Eve
always to believe
in the last-lying heave
.
as in a tabula raga/rasa that off with
the fairies drifted through much fog—No One
Molon Labe—Terse Laconics in Hypotaxis
a curious liberation in this announcement
of the Platonic footing all the night
I felt in her that fairies had taken me
I strapped my new feet and thought of fire
eating up the houses all around
their faces pressed against windows
but in this I am not predatory
and would abandon a chase if a slow gazelle
turned with haha heaving breast to demand there be a rest
but still, still
the fire creeps down the houses
and who could believe
in that little box
that no one of us had thought in the fire's steep
and thought still in our sleep
of how it might be
if the gazelle the ghazal had been quickened
in all of its rhymes in its hindquarter chimes
till the breath that flew there
the claws that there grew
fastened all through her hair
in the rain-steeps I am learning
to be mellif as all Eve
always to believe
in the last-lying heave
.
Monday, January 17, 2011
a virtual lekking so proud and denatured were we then
there once was a tyger
whose heart was quite black
fear yet me he cried
whose heart was quite black
a peacock happened there
in that tyger'd tight world
he hop't and he blew
and his tail unfurled
in a scrape and a hollow
such lekking he did
and there in that wallow
he boasted and hid
and slid him a fever
in a packet so tight
that e'en a tyger
could nestle that night
as a cigarette nurstles
in the lips and cavorts
in the lap of all vessels
that sway at his thwarts
[and in the morning the voice
that spake that there was the third
and that there were only three
and of this it was the third
and that no more would there be
but three and this then was the third]
of the tyger was nothing
returned or yet seen
but the slow acre danced
in stripes dun and green
the peacock arose
he flut then his tayle
whereupon he dids't lift
in quite a great gale
[and thereupon he spake again
that this was all of the three
thrice he had spoken from five
to three of which it was the third
and this proclaimed the three]
and now I must flit
where the hearken is through
I wish you were here
where that tyger-root grew
.
whose heart was quite black
fear yet me he cried
whose heart was quite black
a peacock happened there
in that tyger'd tight world
he hop't and he blew
and his tail unfurled
in a scrape and a hollow
such lekking he did
and there in that wallow
he boasted and hid
and slid him a fever
in a packet so tight
that e'en a tyger
could nestle that night
as a cigarette nurstles
in the lips and cavorts
in the lap of all vessels
that sway at his thwarts
[and in the morning the voice
that spake that there was the third
and that there were only three
and of this it was the third
and that no more would there be
but three and this then was the third]
of the tyger was nothing
returned or yet seen
but the slow acre danced
in stripes dun and green
the peacock arose
he flut then his tayle
whereupon he dids't lift
in quite a great gale
[and thereupon he spake again
that this was all of the three
thrice he had spoken from five
to three of which it was the third
and this proclaimed the three]
and now I must flit
where the hearken is through
I wish you were here
where that tyger-root grew
.
the straight and left wing clapping
men die quicker because they are heartbroken
at the age of four
introduced to the violent resolution of conflict
taught that no one is to be trusted
women on the other beat
still believe deep in themselves
that war is a game
that will never fully tear their bodies apart
they can laugh and dance
while the boys do it
to the rock and roll rock and roll radio
not all of this not all of it but enough
still we die four years younger
and it closes as we learn
that war is not all our inheritance
but only a spoken thing that sinks through
the footfalls on the stair outside our yellow-lit rooms
drums into our little hearts
steals us away to the dry place
beyond the warm wet place
and all our songs and speaking
in such loud whispers hereafter
have I already given this to my boys
this infection that will make them stand
beating their little heads
against the long wall of their lives?
.
at the age of four
introduced to the violent resolution of conflict
taught that no one is to be trusted
women on the other beat
still believe deep in themselves
that war is a game
that will never fully tear their bodies apart
they can laugh and dance
while the boys do it
to the rock and roll rock and roll radio
not all of this not all of it but enough
still we die four years younger
and it closes as we learn
that war is not all our inheritance
but only a spoken thing that sinks through
the footfalls on the stair outside our yellow-lit rooms
drums into our little hearts
steals us away to the dry place
beyond the warm wet place
and all our songs and speaking
in such loud whispers hereafter
have I already given this to my boys
this infection that will make them stand
beating their little heads
against the long wall of their lives?
.
mass spectrometer
Oradour
like a bubble
they don't lick your fucking toes
these guys
(Plains Indians/Tibet
Das Reich)
every letter a word
tell you what
.
like a bubble
they don't lick your fucking toes
these guys
(Plains Indians/Tibet
Das Reich)
every letter a word
tell you what
.
reflux
each human a saccade in which we sincarnate
a stroboscope of serial-slow suspension
a line of leading lights out from the lee
a staccato spasm of apprehension
its mist and moan of siren and the lowest
astronomical tide that divides you from me
.
a stroboscope of serial-slow suspension
a line of leading lights out from the lee
a staccato spasm of apprehension
its mist and moan of siren and the lowest
astronomical tide that divides you from me
.
Maria's childlike delight in chocolate
all night he looks
he can't help himself
for somehow the fact that her nose moves
like a little animal
when she smiles
has eclipsed all the far-off lights
down the eastern road
to the seashore
.
he can't help himself
for somehow the fact that her nose moves
like a little animal
when she smiles
has eclipsed all the far-off lights
down the eastern road
to the seashore
.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
virus
I expected the Trojan Horse
(that was par for the course)
but the Trojan Rhino
was a new one on me
it jumped right out
of my infected PC
ran across the lino
and ate my TV
.
(that was par for the course)
but the Trojan Rhino
was a new one on me
it jumped right out
of my infected PC
ran across the lino
and ate my TV
.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Pulpo
the same city on the same day—Carl Sagan
after coitus a tentacled lovecraft that wriggles pink
wild panicked in the retreat it is sea purple that cannot speak
he disengages inked blue from his girlfriend
carries her to the red bathroom and turns her inside out
hangs her on the violet girlfriend armature to drain where
he watches the dirty stuff all disassembled start to live
start to cluster and squeal with multiple heads
vast echoes down the basin the waste the hollow halls
that fill with smoke and
in these spaces Pulpo comes to himself
in the wash in the froth
laughing to the elbows
he washes her out with warm water whereupon
careful to avoid oily soaps that could damage
her delicate tissue
he looks at her there in the basin rolled
inside out oh oh Pulpo what of you
now that your batgirl is
]inside out like Ed Gein like blue soldiers at Shuffling Lances
to hang those interiors high and right and not to slide[
down the lift shafts Pulpo heads in hand bellow
the dropping lift frets mostly
for how not the pus octo on the crash the most
famous successful male sex toy in the world
but what good is that wriggled itself to death
there in the blood
Y chromosome basin
somewhere overt the rainboat?
(they say eight legs walking over your eyes will cure it)
Pulpo, it ain't just about the slamming impact on the wharf
even now it is more than that, Pulpo
)you know Love best when you find it afterwards
just about twitching in starlight floating away(
LOL:WTF:LOL
.
after coitus a tentacled lovecraft that wriggles pink
wild panicked in the retreat it is sea purple that cannot speak
he disengages inked blue from his girlfriend
carries her to the red bathroom and turns her inside out
hangs her on the violet girlfriend armature to drain where
he watches the dirty stuff all disassembled start to live
start to cluster and squeal with multiple heads
vast echoes down the basin the waste the hollow halls
that fill with smoke and
in these spaces Pulpo comes to himself
in the wash in the froth
laughing to the elbows
he washes her out with warm water whereupon
careful to avoid oily soaps that could damage
her delicate tissue
he looks at her there in the basin rolled
inside out oh oh Pulpo what of you
now that your batgirl is
]inside out like Ed Gein like blue soldiers at Shuffling Lances
to hang those interiors high and right and not to slide[
down the lift shafts Pulpo heads in hand bellow
the dropping lift frets mostly
for how not the pus octo on the crash the most
famous successful male sex toy in the world
but what good is that wriggled itself to death
there in the blood
Y chromosome basin
somewhere overt the rainboat?
(they say eight legs walking over your eyes will cure it)
Pulpo, it ain't just about the slamming impact on the wharf
even now it is more than that, Pulpo
)you know Love best when you find it afterwards
just about twitching in starlight floating away(
LOL:WTF:LOL
.
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
fat Mahdi with concubines in retreat
More Head spoke of a general Gordon who unspeared by running
the time back from Mahdis
to where they ran as ichor and afreets into the sand
the spear was a cold thing that schlupped out of his chest
into the arms of an unravelling young man dark and sweating
who rewound down the steps from the embassy
out into the desert where the words flew from his ears
into the mouth of the Mahdi black and whirling
who in another time would grow fat and apostate
but in this would fade in equal proportion
to the words that flew back in
with such diminishing and disempowering
that he shrank back even then into the far Afrique Interior
where he slowly ceased and shifted, silted and shut up
like a motorcycle a mammoth a monolith half buried in dunes
a skeleton laid across it
all its tools buried in the wind below
ribcage-deep lightfalls in the blow bells of hell
.
the time back from Mahdis
to where they ran as ichor and afreets into the sand
the spear was a cold thing that schlupped out of his chest
into the arms of an unravelling young man dark and sweating
who rewound down the steps from the embassy
out into the desert where the words flew from his ears
into the mouth of the Mahdi black and whirling
who in another time would grow fat and apostate
but in this would fade in equal proportion
to the words that flew back in
with such diminishing and disempowering
that he shrank back even then into the far Afrique Interior
where he slowly ceased and shifted, silted and shut up
like a motorcycle a mammoth a monolith half buried in dunes
a skeleton laid across it
all its tools buried in the wind below
ribcage-deep lightfalls in the blow bells of hell
.
the lights wink out
on the mountainside a dead channel suddenly opens
on the cracked radio
a thin human voice calls out
come back you say
through your broken legs
but it is gone and will not speak again
it is in moments of dread that we feel our gods
Vox AC30
Marshall Stack
Fender Twin
Orange
what could you want
you jellyfish of purple cold?
.
on the cracked radio
a thin human voice calls out
come back you say
through your broken legs
but it is gone and will not speak again
it is in moments of dread that we feel our gods
Vox AC30
Marshall Stack
Fender Twin
Orange
what could you want
you jellyfish of purple cold?
.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Jazz and the flying trapeze
Diana Krall suddenly became the synchronous other-end-arc
of a feedback loop when someone sent me a link from Italy
that could be closure and finality
the beginning of this is obscure and ragged
it is difficult to use it as information
her chords and melodies hammer and collide
throughout this.don't think they are not there.they are as birds
dropping in flight.clouds of ash flooding the troposphere.flowers with bent heads
but two references to the unknown in a few days
means everything and nothing
I think of my uncle in a Lancaster bomber in 1943
young as black rainfall
think of Modernism and high boots sheening out
think of Sinatra and McCoy Tyner
the thrash of those marches
lost children in parks of dream
the attempt to hold them, to stop time
I am clutching in the night for omens
drowning face down in a reflected moon
reaching for poems that are too far away, too deep, too soon
.
of a feedback loop when someone sent me a link from Italy
that could be closure and finality
the beginning of this is obscure and ragged
it is difficult to use it as information
her chords and melodies hammer and collide
throughout this.don't think they are not there.they are as birds
dropping in flight.clouds of ash flooding the troposphere.flowers with bent heads
but two references to the unknown in a few days
means everything and nothing
I think of my uncle in a Lancaster bomber in 1943
young as black rainfall
think of Modernism and high boots sheening out
think of Sinatra and McCoy Tyner
the thrash of those marches
lost children in parks of dream
the attempt to hold them, to stop time
I am clutching in the night for omens
drowning face down in a reflected moon
reaching for poems that are too far away, too deep, too soon
.
snowy fugues in 6/8 time
this inequality of purpose
creates a gyring motion out of which he spins
find himself out of shape, pressed flat, immobile
it is as though a car drives too fast
along a narrow country lane
and you are forced to squeeze yourself
against the hedge
it is as though you came into contact
with a form of energy of a different order
than your own
look into the eyes of someone
who has no interest
know again that your currency
has only marginal value here
that anything can not happen in this denatured tissue
something blew by
looked briefly in at the night window
then moved on full of its reflections
the people in the house stood at the window
for some time afterwards wondering
everything is still and dark and empty outside
whatever it was out there grows more distant
at every moment
in swoops across the fields
where the recent snow melts quickly
and is soon forgotten
.
creates a gyring motion out of which he spins
find himself out of shape, pressed flat, immobile
it is as though a car drives too fast
along a narrow country lane
and you are forced to squeeze yourself
against the hedge
it is as though you came into contact
with a form of energy of a different order
than your own
look into the eyes of someone
who has no interest
know again that your currency
has only marginal value here
that anything can not happen in this denatured tissue
something blew by
looked briefly in at the night window
then moved on full of its reflections
the people in the house stood at the window
for some time afterwards wondering
everything is still and dark and empty outside
whatever it was out there grows more distant
at every moment
in swoops across the fields
where the recent snow melts quickly
and is soon forgotten
.
Monday, January 03, 2011
in heaven before your head hits the wall
you have a gun to the head
of the Son of God
it is ten seconds before 0 AD and you are there
you are a laughing waterfall in this scene
that tumbles over rocks
dark-eyed and intense
but still inside
with that calm
of the high mountains
sunbeams swirl about you
everything is wild and full of omens
everything in this moment says yes
now, love-child, blow his brains
into wine-dark mist
.
of the Son of God
it is ten seconds before 0 AD and you are there
you are a laughing waterfall in this scene
that tumbles over rocks
dark-eyed and intense
but still inside
with that calm
of the high mountains
sunbeams swirl about you
everything is wild and full of omens
everything in this moment says yes
now, love-child, blow his brains
into wine-dark mist
.
Sunday, January 02, 2011
Saturday, January 01, 2011
the carphouse of love of trees of bitching grassy teeth
we are all fucked up
but some of us are fucking back—Madeleine Shine
the parakeet killer in the treehouse
replete with love stirs himself
to finish the job a little tighter a little more
and this bitch will stop forever
out there the night the day the fields unfold
this love that bubbles up from the saproots below
well it sings and howls
we are having a family party fishing
around a tank adorned with blue and pink ribbons
when we catch one we slide it back in
watch it hang there big and stupid as a dead angel
sinking slow in the trauma and fog
I have forgotten myself again
I am far above the ground
in the treehouse where I first carved your love-teeth
.
but some of us are fucking back—Madeleine Shine
the parakeet killer in the treehouse
replete with love stirs himself
to finish the job a little tighter a little more
and this bitch will stop forever
out there the night the day the fields unfold
this love that bubbles up from the saproots below
well it sings and howls
we are having a family party fishing
around a tank adorned with blue and pink ribbons
when we catch one we slide it back in
watch it hang there big and stupid as a dead angel
sinking slow in the trauma and fog
I have forgotten myself again
I am far above the ground
in the treehouse where I first carved your love-teeth
.
Tarot electric disease
we are all in the gutter
but some of us are looking at two years—Stephen Fry
oh my memory has changed around this
it comes back as electric shocks and psychism
I am no longer unkind and can now feel love
up and down the horses dance in starlight
& etc cliché
memory and change together say stuff of reflexive therapy
and disaster
all that night that stood between us
this myth of the stolid farmer who stands by a hedge
looking
and then ashtrays overflowing
music that spills from the radio and crawls all over the floor
like a person whose madness suddenly encroached
uh uh
freak the night the night that keeps leaking
you and I eye to eye
oh I say oh
I can't help attacking you
like that we squirm together attacked and in love with weather
my hand on your breast casual as rabbits but with an edge
all dead now look through new telescopes
my voice has dropped an octave tonight
old man river river
into the flood I will fall
the killer at dawn shaking his shift
worries about crumbs and stains
the boy in the cloud writes of his father's huge shoes
begone stink of outer places
.
but some of us are looking at two years—Stephen Fry
oh my memory has changed around this
it comes back as electric shocks and psychism
I am no longer unkind and can now feel love
up and down the horses dance in starlight
& etc cliché
memory and change together say stuff of reflexive therapy
and disaster
all that night that stood between us
this myth of the stolid farmer who stands by a hedge
looking
and then ashtrays overflowing
music that spills from the radio and crawls all over the floor
like a person whose madness suddenly encroached
uh uh
freak the night the night that keeps leaking
you and I eye to eye
oh I say oh
I can't help attacking you
like that we squirm together attacked and in love with weather
my hand on your breast casual as rabbits but with an edge
all dead now look through new telescopes
my voice has dropped an octave tonight
old man river river
into the flood I will fall
the killer at dawn shaking his shift
worries about crumbs and stains
the boy in the cloud writes of his father's huge shoes
begone stink of outer places
.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
the parade of lagomorphs
and when he answered "your duty to your husband and children",
she demurred—Germaine Greer
fifty even forty years ago these women
are more or less dead [betrothal-scarring-wed of facial coverings//]
at this age sexless damp dishrags
of resentment in bags worn thin and blue as veins in Saxon-skin
by husbandry and the pounding of sheets
in some interior scullery just about kicking in dead sleet
petals and sand and sawdust and hacking spit
now look at them texting up as all outer pimped as reality TV
as though their duty to waste and shrink was somewhere cancelled
redacted between cream and the clash
gesture/furnace/glower at them expectant and sexual every one rodded up
with a pink battery roscoe of Thatcher-Solanas tripstick
somehow some right to fuck forever night etc
when did all these women/whore-hen/harrier of forest law/bust a flutter
from the blood-gutter so loose into all expectation?
[alle the nighte we heard that lytel demon mutter
and we there watched him from the pantry licke at the newe butter]
.
she demurred—Germaine Greer
fifty even forty years ago these women
are more or less dead [betrothal-scarring-wed of facial coverings//]
at this age sexless damp dishrags
of resentment in bags worn thin and blue as veins in Saxon-skin
by husbandry and the pounding of sheets
in some interior scullery just about kicking in dead sleet
petals and sand and sawdust and hacking spit
now look at them texting up as all outer pimped as reality TV
as though their duty to waste and shrink was somewhere cancelled
redacted between cream and the clash
gesture/furnace/glower at them expectant and sexual every one rodded up
with a pink battery roscoe of Thatcher-Solanas tripstick
somehow some right to fuck forever night etc
when did all these women/whore-hen/harrier of forest law/bust a flutter
from the blood-gutter so loose into all expectation?
[alle the nighte we heard that lytel demon mutter
and we there watched him from the pantry licke at the newe butter]
.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
harmonic precession (notes)
- new grass through late snow
- an error of 1/1000 of a second in the GPS time differential between satellite and receiver will result in a position displacement of up to 160 miles
the insect attack rate is the frequency at which you feel the departure of your fetch in the mornings out through the cracked green glass across the fields sweeps of rain grey like dead skin in a ditch long as Lustig beating with a hammer a devil in a bag it all circles in scatters of film penetrating the membrane the blows from without hair like corn trodden full of ergot a body found there in the tyre ruts flat and black and dispirited
[your currency is no longer legal tender here it is not intrinsically devalued just not desired, which is the same thing when the hammers ring and the corncrakes sing] when the mummer time is coming & the streets are softly keening all around the booming weather will we grow
glassy-O
her absence of inhibition does not indicate sexual intimacy only the loss of all acknowledgement of you as a mature male you are now in some overlapping Venn category with small children and animals and houseplants so why should she notice if she is semi-naked before you?
this requires an adjustment that only a few only a few people find impossible
Hwæt! if there is no life left in this brass god if another front gathers from the west if the cold wet air mass has overtaken and occluded the preceding relative warmth forcing it upwards into lumps and spikes depicted in iso-violet convention
between the hit or miss governor and the cones are three aluminium valves each resembling a round Greek shield in miniature each functioning as the mouth of a tiny god from which issue steam and several more or less toxic gases
hollow hollow all the beaten bag sounds from that dry devilskin
hot coals forced down the throat of the wolf in that mechanised myth
hollow hollow
imagine her there imagine the shift the sensation of it legs apart knees raised as for congress or delivery beneath the covers slide into focus the eclipse the usurpation the sudden brightness of a new comet all the pieces of you rain invisible as ash falling at night into wet fields your bag full of silver puffs out red spores
and if this is that as their white bellies flop in the shallows
then down & around & below & O all the bells of the barrelling Dead
.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
love as practiced in the south
this night she had calm all over her
that quiet inhuman settlement
that they have before they jump
but she was approximate
I reached out for her there
she took my hand and came back
we ate a boiled cat together in the kitchen
then laughed till sunrise
now at noon she reads my tea-leavings
postcards fly in and out
and we mind them not
that quiet inhuman settlement
that they have before they jump
but she was approximate
I reached out for her there
she took my hand and came back
we ate a boiled cat together in the kitchen
then laughed till sunrise
now at noon she reads my tea-leavings
postcards fly in and out
and we mind them not
Monday, December 13, 2010
SHINE
after a few weeks of this new start
though she could see he was trying
she could also see that it wasn't working
oh she loved him and everything
but she couldn't keep living through this
like this for ever
& so one night when he was fucked up
she slipped the gun
into his open mouth
and blew his head all over the wall
behind the bed
where they had made their babies
she sat there afterwards for a while
cried a little
then made some cocoa
read a Stephen King novel
until she fell asleep next to him
in the night she cuddled him
in his dark uncomplicated wetness
.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
poked with a stick
four and a half centuries
since last a poking with a stick
all the windows broken back then
paint covers the car
the police flee the scene
their faces frozen in horror
all over the papers
no one talks of anything else
everyone slowly grasps
the vulnerable human that lowers its window
waving like it is somehow still safe
morning coming up through the smoke
scenes of feral children eating rancid offal
in the tricoteuse trees
no one feels anything at all until later
oh everyone's god, this moment
.
since last a poking with a stick
all the windows broken back then
paint covers the car
the police flee the scene
their faces frozen in horror
all over the papers
no one talks of anything else
everyone slowly grasps
the vulnerable human that lowers its window
waving like it is somehow still safe
morning coming up through the smoke
scenes of feral children eating rancid offal
in the tricoteuse trees
no one feels anything at all until later
oh everyone's god, this moment
.
or be damned
if we don't kill Julian Assange
any one of us could be fucked in the ass
at any time
during our sleep
even the most innocent rapist or child molester
or otherwise affrighted hare dancing in stolen skin
on the wide sunset
could find himself exposed needlessly
while washing his car one sunday am
looking thoughtfully into the hose rainbows
still full of TV and wine
suddenly a neighbour walking past looks askance
like the world was all changed and gone wrong
all of us fearful now
or perhaps
.
any one of us could be fucked in the ass
at any time
during our sleep
even the most innocent rapist or child molester
or otherwise affrighted hare dancing in stolen skin
on the wide sunset
could find himself exposed needlessly
while washing his car one sunday am
looking thoughtfully into the hose rainbows
still full of TV and wine
suddenly a neighbour walking past looks askance
like the world was all changed and gone wrong
all of us fearful now
or perhaps
.
give it up
it is hard to know
the qualitative difference
outside of psychology
of penetration
or penetration
but in the twilight
one feels more like saying
yes I've been travelling over mountains
baby trying to get to you
slide slide
night and day running all the way
lay back open up
this is not any extra
exhortation only the wild dogs in the river
wanting interior commands
wanting to know
what gives
.
the qualitative difference
outside of psychology
of penetration
or penetration
but in the twilight
one feels more like saying
yes I've been travelling over mountains
baby trying to get to you
slide slide
night and day running all the way
lay back open up
this is not any extra
exhortation only the wild dogs in the river
wanting interior commands
wanting to know
what gives
.
nearly walked in halioclines
as though descending into a heat sink
or synch of coldness reached by the going of stairs
the falling not the rising or the strings or nosings
or any others
he spent minutes in her wardrobe amongst her hangings
while she searched herself
it had a fascination like voyeurism or psychosis
like the fix of watching one's reflection in a toilet
all the while the music
this was moments before he inserted the neck of a wine bottle
into her and upended it
then used her as a drinking vessel
knowing her fierce and vivid spirit
would appreciate this intrusive act
of friendship and trust
of the thing in the wardrobe
was nothing much remembered then
the car half on the pavement revving until the engine
nearly blowing his hands in her hair then
this she said this I want to do in the long steam
but only he said yes like everything stretched and beat
in the steam of twilight bells as the day sinks it all
.
or synch of coldness reached by the going of stairs
the falling not the rising or the strings or nosings
or any others
he spent minutes in her wardrobe amongst her hangings
while she searched herself
it had a fascination like voyeurism or psychosis
like the fix of watching one's reflection in a toilet
all the while the music
this was moments before he inserted the neck of a wine bottle
into her and upended it
then used her as a drinking vessel
knowing her fierce and vivid spirit
would appreciate this intrusive act
of friendship and trust
of the thing in the wardrobe
was nothing much remembered then
the car half on the pavement revving until the engine
nearly blowing his hands in her hair then
this she said this I want to do in the long steam
but only he said yes like everything stretched and beat
in the steam of twilight bells as the day sinks it all
.
Monday, December 06, 2010
if I could be someone else
only last night in the little house
surrounded by ice
the radio began
and it ran and ran
with a story of a man
whose mother died when he was so young
that later his heart exploded while he was driving
on the way to an interview
where he could have become an adult
he never made it there
just everything blew up
across the road
at 9am all his heart coming down like rain
settling out like sad music
high trees on either side
like tall people watching
all of them grieving and concerned
their grief reaching like long dark hands
such was the moment and the shutters blowing
in a sudden wind that came in from the East
his car stopped waiting
wondering what might happen now
all of him just spread there like a soldier
who never got that far
just an exploded star
that came from afar
such are the messages from life and the sky
for one small human
that drove too high
I have made dreadful mistakes
and my heart fearful aches
to watch the outtakes
who doesn't wish
there was a god down the road
watching
while he made human cakes
for all our sakes?
and the music comes in
and it is striding and mournful
like a little angry god
with a hole in his head
where the seasons went
and where at times he would gather himself
and wish as hard as he could
that things had been made better
we are incrementally composed
of all the people and things
we have ever loved and hated
this is soft Politics
and every time is morning
washing up on the long beach
like a lover's hair in your dead hands
and her not yet ready
to ease them out
just lying like that
listening to the waves
neither of you moving
one that can't now
one that wants to lie forever
not moving in case something changes
this is how it will be
when your heart finally hits your head
whoever you are I want you there
to do that like one big word
gasping in the quiet morning all over me
loving this sandy death
that came in at last from the radio
the only question ever
is how to love (d*))000£
.
surrounded by ice
the radio began
and it ran and ran
with a story of a man
whose mother died when he was so young
that later his heart exploded while he was driving
on the way to an interview
where he could have become an adult
he never made it there
just everything blew up
across the road
at 9am all his heart coming down like rain
settling out like sad music
high trees on either side
like tall people watching
all of them grieving and concerned
their grief reaching like long dark hands
such was the moment and the shutters blowing
in a sudden wind that came in from the East
his car stopped waiting
wondering what might happen now
all of him just spread there like a soldier
who never got that far
just an exploded star
that came from afar
such are the messages from life and the sky
for one small human
that drove too high
I have made dreadful mistakes
and my heart fearful aches
to watch the outtakes
who doesn't wish
there was a god down the road
watching
while he made human cakes
for all our sakes?
and the music comes in
and it is striding and mournful
like a little angry god
with a hole in his head
where the seasons went
and where at times he would gather himself
and wish as hard as he could
that things had been made better
we are incrementally composed
of all the people and things
we have ever loved and hated
this is soft Politics
and every time is morning
washing up on the long beach
like a lover's hair in your dead hands
and her not yet ready
to ease them out
just lying like that
listening to the waves
neither of you moving
one that can't now
one that wants to lie forever
not moving in case something changes
this is how it will be
when your heart finally hits your head
whoever you are I want you there
to do that like one big word
gasping in the quiet morning all over me
loving this sandy death
that came in at last from the radio
the only question ever
is how to love (d*))000£
.
add lizard
this wind could you believe it
your face like a tree
looking out
the linden trees all astir
another moment I can't believe
and the drains all aghast
the fairies of language have settled here
(oh ah)
we are knocking about together
seeing how it feels
bellyup chumbawamba dancecrack
so much
was ill was not
sonnet
was pill was snot
scotch bonnet
slide see slide
see saw
see rupture see tear
#
.
though snot
your face like a tree
looking out
the linden trees all astir
another moment I can't believe
and the drains all aghast
the fairies of language have settled here
(oh ah)
we are knocking about together
seeing how it feels
bellyup chumbawamba dancecrack
so much
was ill was not
sonnet
was pill was snot
scotch bonnet
slide see slide
see saw
see rupture see tear
#
.
though snot
Thursday, December 02, 2010
(Val Lewton & the locked petticoat hurt) a submarine film review
the entire crew thrown askance by the presence of a female
things they wouldn't do they wear stalking "cologne"
reeks along the companionway bringing down cartoon deer
"cologne" of couscous algorithm for spermatic submarine
penetration she flutters trapped at the centre of this myth
&&& the difference in vapids between the shift the shroud
&&& the hurt everything depends on some intervention
of extraneous men who all of a sudden act strange run up challenges
hey where you from New York??? the man with a gun in his face
fuck you all you pigs
refuses to back off he says silent no I am of the desert places I
and my father I am panicked I will not scream or die the man
at the centre
of this myth dies like the woman in the former though his dying
must be what kumquat oh erectile &
oh pyro spirotechnic (for it is wished that it be known
these earlier (underline) toys themselves)))
[in earlier (underline) myth the dying is concomitant and always a secret
launched into a red future to encrypt in reverse the enigma
tic pulse—Dormier Duval: Dark Always Is The Way]
.
things they wouldn't do they wear stalking "cologne"
reeks along the companionway bringing down cartoon deer
"cologne" of couscous algorithm for spermatic submarine
penetration she flutters trapped at the centre of this myth
&&& the difference in vapids between the shift the shroud
&&& the hurt everything depends on some intervention
of extraneous men who all of a sudden act strange run up challenges
hey where you from New York??? the man with a gun in his face
fuck you all you pigs
refuses to back off he says silent no I am of the desert places I
and my father I am panicked I will not scream or die the man
at the centre
of this myth dies like the woman in the former though his dying
must be what kumquat oh erectile &
oh pyro spirotechnic (for it is wished that it be known
these earlier (underline) toys themselves)))
[in earlier (underline) myth the dying is concomitant and always a secret
launched into a red future to encrypt in reverse the enigma
tic pulse—Dormier Duval: Dark Always Is The Way]
.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Do people come back from Hell?
If you were in Hell and the Pope decided that the particular offence you had been damned for was no longer that bad in your particular case, would that mean you had to be released and allowed into Heaven? And would you be entitled to some compensation? Perhaps even therapy for the probable post-traumatic stress? I mean who goes through x years of unbearable torture without some psychological fallout? If you weren't rehabilitated in some way you could be a liability always starting fights with the cool floaty people in Heaven,, which they might not find very heavenly, and which could lead to complaints and 'problems' in the place without problems.
But maybe if your sins are still pending a final decision as to their scale of mortality etc, you don't go to Hell but rather to some sort of holding complex until the decision is made. This might be 100 or 1000 years in the future, but of course God will know that it's going to happen and won't let you be subjected to any torture for something which He will eventually turn out to have approved of when his various popes realise it. This holding complex will therefore necessarily be a nice place that isn't too different from Heaven.
While we're at it there's something else I'd like to know. If the crucifixion of Christ brought about a new covenant between humanity and God, whereby humans could now be redeemed of their sins and granted safe passage to Heaven upon repentance and acceptance of Christ, then wasn't it sort of the responsibility of God to advertise this to all humans at the point when it became available? I mean why did he only let a few people know about it? I know they told other people and gradually over 2000 years a lot of people found out, but a lot of people died in that time without knowing and must have gone to Hell. Actually, some people still don't know up in the highlands of Papua New Guinea or deep in the rainforest in South America. So are some people still going to Hell every day because they haven't been told they don't need to any more?
I don't mean to be awkward or anything, but this doesn't seem quite fair to me. Are there any theologians out there who can explain these things to me?
And, if God is omnipotent, can He prove He doesn't exist?
.
But maybe if your sins are still pending a final decision as to their scale of mortality etc, you don't go to Hell but rather to some sort of holding complex until the decision is made. This might be 100 or 1000 years in the future, but of course God will know that it's going to happen and won't let you be subjected to any torture for something which He will eventually turn out to have approved of when his various popes realise it. This holding complex will therefore necessarily be a nice place that isn't too different from Heaven.
While we're at it there's something else I'd like to know. If the crucifixion of Christ brought about a new covenant between humanity and God, whereby humans could now be redeemed of their sins and granted safe passage to Heaven upon repentance and acceptance of Christ, then wasn't it sort of the responsibility of God to advertise this to all humans at the point when it became available? I mean why did he only let a few people know about it? I know they told other people and gradually over 2000 years a lot of people found out, but a lot of people died in that time without knowing and must have gone to Hell. Actually, some people still don't know up in the highlands of Papua New Guinea or deep in the rainforest in South America. So are some people still going to Hell every day because they haven't been told they don't need to any more?
I don't mean to be awkward or anything, but this doesn't seem quite fair to me. Are there any theologians out there who can explain these things to me?
And, if God is omnipotent, can He prove He doesn't exist?
.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
The Duodeniad
La Rage—sing, goddess, of the Rabies of Achilles
the Pope now has an HIV-infected Gay lover
—this has led to a considerable softening of his position
regarding the use of condoms
words that won't wash out: tubetrain/rucsack/Krak des Chevaliers
the Chinese eat cats like crackers
but that's nothing to the French
who drown young beaked boys in Armagnac
they bury in woodland in Spring let it all mulch down to thick soup
they swear by the fortifying properties
his vegetal body his machine massif
his midriff his central nervous plexus a clock
a barometer to be tapped and adjusted
it tracks responsively the snaking isobars set it in train
like a Victorian clockwork golem
trained to follow a bannister commit strangulation upon
a sleeper on the highest floor he intends instead
the meridians of psychic commerce every time that she
walks in the room rage sing of rage golem sing of
Aung San Suu Kyi at one end of a telescope
a little uniformed general with his mouth grinding the other
like a cat with nothing else
rage sing of rage he says all silly with a new bike and hat
North Utsire/South Utsire: a sea giant moderate to good
occasionally poor at first
who could love your face so full of interior disfigurement?
the Vatican explains that on a case by casis it has never opposed
the use of condoms if you have been kidnapped by Islamist baboons
force you to commit acts of disgusting coitus on a monkey
but regret that you will still attend the 7th Hell on the grounds
that to be able to commit said act you must have had something
going on
we took me and some friends took control of the world sometime yesterday
in ways too subtle to yet be understood
I have decided not to give up wanking
there is a pleasant place just outside Hell where you wait
until the Pope catches up
it's all just a formality now
papers and ID please how often did you do it
were you married no well in here please
try to cool it in the waiting room there will be opportunity later
the Vatican explains that it has never been opposed to the use of
trained monkeys for sex
The Papa has issued clarification-condoms
Hunkpapa winewall at the margo
in eery breathbasks
.
.
the Pope now has an HIV-infected Gay lover
—this has led to a considerable softening of his position
regarding the use of condoms
words that won't wash out: tubetrain/rucsack/Krak des Chevaliers
the Chinese eat cats like crackers
but that's nothing to the French
who drown young beaked boys in Armagnac
they bury in woodland in Spring let it all mulch down to thick soup
they swear by the fortifying properties
his vegetal body his machine massif
his midriff his central nervous plexus a clock
a barometer to be tapped and adjusted
it tracks responsively the snaking isobars set it in train
like a Victorian clockwork golem
trained to follow a bannister commit strangulation upon
a sleeper on the highest floor he intends instead
the meridians of psychic commerce every time that she
walks in the room rage sing of rage golem sing of
Aung San Suu Kyi at one end of a telescope
a little uniformed general with his mouth grinding the other
like a cat with nothing else
rage sing of rage he says all silly with a new bike and hat
North Utsire/South Utsire: a sea giant moderate to good
occasionally poor at first
who could love your face so full of interior disfigurement?
the Vatican explains that on a case by casis it has never opposed
the use of condoms if you have been kidnapped by Islamist baboons
force you to commit acts of disgusting coitus on a monkey
but regret that you will still attend the 7th Hell on the grounds
that to be able to commit said act you must have had something
going on
we took me and some friends took control of the world sometime yesterday
in ways too subtle to yet be understood
I have decided not to give up wanking
there is a pleasant place just outside Hell where you wait
until the Pope catches up
it's all just a formality now
papers and ID please how often did you do it
were you married no well in here please
try to cool it in the waiting room there will be opportunity later
the Vatican explains that it has never been opposed to the use of
trained monkeys for sex
The Papa has issued clarification-condoms
Hunkpapa winewall at the margo
in eery breathbasks
.
.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
urgent cupboards unfold
let the hurt run deep
your hands poised there look at them
the big gun fretting at its work
there in the market mid-afternoon
buying wool for the evening
guffawing away into smoke
I looked down at my finger snapped off
the train coming in
the misty postcard light
rain of blood
is this perfect?
here I will diode
and shrink
like bee wolfs
thick and sharp
full of green
in the thick fear I think of breasts
I think I see them
coming at me
why the sad comfort of dripping eaves
as little cold mouths looking out?
this wine goes everywhere
nothing is elated
is there any difference
facing a bullet
standing on tiptoes
looking down at that fall
I am scared by your sex
love is a pattern recognition
I suppose
here in the wild hills we ride red goats
sleep in wet disaster
wake to explosions
you want to be us
you hate us for it
.
your hands poised there look at them
the big gun fretting at its work
there in the market mid-afternoon
buying wool for the evening
guffawing away into smoke
I looked down at my finger snapped off
the train coming in
the misty postcard light
rain of blood
is this perfect?
here I will diode
and shrink
like bee wolfs
thick and sharp
full of green
in the thick fear I think of breasts
I think I see them
coming at me
why the sad comfort of dripping eaves
as little cold mouths looking out?
this wine goes everywhere
nothing is elated
is there any difference
facing a bullet
standing on tiptoes
looking down at that fall
I am scared by your sex
love is a pattern recognition
I suppose
here in the wild hills we ride red goats
sleep in wet disaster
wake to explosions
you want to be us
you hate us for it
.
Fitzroy's Moral Collapse
alle kunst ist umsunst wenn der engel auf dem zundloch brunst
(all technology is in vain if the angel urinates on your musket)
—Austrian folk poem
it is stifled during that first marinading of the Congo
that a humongous Black Man encroached all in fur-lurks
in the ochres for white women
in vapid trails of fortnum ectoplastic whereupon
He wouldst rush to gripe upon their birdbones in transports
of shuddering & lissome delight
.....................................for such Christian middens
.....................................whose vapours always uppermost
& inveigled & even & unto the lateness of the Ireland
such fettled behoof is as those sauvages
squint inholy trees of trinity affront the passages of
.....................High English Women
....................upon whom to inrush
with many urges—eek now it is spake in sech North Americanas
where chestheaded men still lilt and loll in the frontwoods
of Vermouth and Moorish Caliphorn in long quackgrasses
as shy big birds parlay wildly for the extrusion
................................of bonneted females
................................from their wagons below
whence errant junglee wildness of this order saw also
Darwin observe in his fritter such a general finching
of life and aquatic erotortoise during his inchaunting
of the galapageese as would give him cause to flutter
and take heart—in the guise of a vast bird
..................he would stoop into Fitzroy's cabin there
..................to demand more pumpkins
be allocated to some dying damned lizards
on the foredeck
(where it is recorded that he would prefer to perform
his morning daunce of the galapagine finchfather)
Fitzroy's reply is from scripture & to the äffect that such
lézardice has now no place in the lives of elder men
whose wives yet abide
in their flossing bosoms of yeastertide
this in its askance
is his moral claps
(Published in Burning Gorgeous anthology 2010)
.
(all technology is in vain if the angel urinates on your musket)
—Austrian folk poem
it is stifled during that first marinading of the Congo
that a humongous Black Man encroached all in fur-lurks
in the ochres for white women
in vapid trails of fortnum ectoplastic whereupon
He wouldst rush to gripe upon their birdbones in transports
of shuddering & lissome delight
.....................................for such Christian middens
.....................................whose vapours always uppermost
& inveigled & even & unto the lateness of the Ireland
such fettled behoof is as those sauvages
squint inholy trees of trinity affront the passages of
.....................High English Women
....................upon whom to inrush
with many urges—eek now it is spake in sech North Americanas
where chestheaded men still lilt and loll in the frontwoods
of Vermouth and Moorish Caliphorn in long quackgrasses
as shy big birds parlay wildly for the extrusion
................................of bonneted females
................................from their wagons below
whence errant junglee wildness of this order saw also
Darwin observe in his fritter such a general finching
of life and aquatic erotortoise during his inchaunting
of the galapageese as would give him cause to flutter
and take heart—in the guise of a vast bird
..................he would stoop into Fitzroy's cabin there
..................to demand more pumpkins
be allocated to some dying damned lizards
on the foredeck
(where it is recorded that he would prefer to perform
his morning daunce of the galapagine finchfather)
Fitzroy's reply is from scripture & to the äffect that such
lézardice has now no place in the lives of elder men
whose wives yet abide
in their flossing bosoms of yeastertide
this in its askance
is his moral claps
(Published in Burning Gorgeous anthology 2010)
.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
blouse a little stretched and face askance I estimate her shapes of disaster
this new assembly of inexplicable light
this alchemy of far things
churchheads in spate the animal forces
of electric the song as lungs of foam
look for it on the sides and flanks
look for it where the season sleeks
here are fairies again
every winter now
their tracks lead away
from the garden
around the bend in the hill
to the old house at the far place
where the dogs no longer bark at night
fairies in our hair
they struggle a little
before sliding in soft
just the long blown-out lanes
Russian horses in songs of wind
a whole new sky of Corsair ships
black approaches
.
this alchemy of far things
churchheads in spate the animal forces
of electric the song as lungs of foam
look for it on the sides and flanks
look for it where the season sleeks
here are fairies again
every winter now
their tracks lead away
from the garden
around the bend in the hill
to the old house at the far place
where the dogs no longer bark at night
fairies in our hair
they struggle a little
before sliding in soft
just the long blown-out lanes
Russian horses in songs of wind
a whole new sky of Corsair ships
black approaches
.
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Thinking about Nick Clegg...
"I have a set of ethics. If you don't like them I have another set."
—Groucho Marx.
—Groucho Marx.
Friday, November 05, 2010
it's firework night at the bloodhop
them kaisers need the bodies to earth their magic
—Madeleine Shine
(don't get me wrong I would eat a domestic cat
if that was the done thing in that place
I don't needlessly disdain convention)
but this magnetism this transmission
the body tissue radio that mudslides that spasms
hansels and gretels spilt all over chinatown
jerking there in the sweet dirt
down at the boondocks the mark twain the mark once
in shivers of skittish facehawking a lowly cat gawks
—Galileo of course had this covered suggested an experiment
whereby two men with lanterns on distant hilltops
sending signals of light would be a sure way to ascertain
the average size of a male Catholic dissent
man I find this Injun cream make your balls melt off
like stardust in thick rain with cats cryin low distance
an everythin blowin all round respect see respect
it is like some beautiful death like the marines he was talking
semper distemper—like this last time I see him
only in his filth and hat
a one such a one was he when first beheld
now look black owl now fuckin look at me
—ah now soft they survey with temperate currents & it is more of
a shift than is first apparent as though the fingers that disengaged
the cervical suncogs the lesser cogs these engineered fractals of steam
were exholding the fetch the whole field itself barking as they
wonders within from the exo-inner
you can't do anything reasonable
in fog like this—no one can, not now
we are thinner come the breaking it is a mechanical
detachment we practice here in the Origo Colony
(who is boondock?)
this and no more
we are inured at least to animal ruptures
they looked out on a gaseous future landscape
run by wild dogs,he said, all shifty like he was then
I couldn't believe their eyes
.
—Madeleine Shine
(don't get me wrong I would eat a domestic cat
if that was the done thing in that place
I don't needlessly disdain convention)
but this magnetism this transmission
the body tissue radio that mudslides that spasms
hansels and gretels spilt all over chinatown
jerking there in the sweet dirt
down at the boondocks the mark twain the mark once
in shivers of skittish facehawking a lowly cat gawks
—Galileo of course had this covered suggested an experiment
whereby two men with lanterns on distant hilltops
sending signals of light would be a sure way to ascertain
the average size of a male Catholic dissent
man I find this Injun cream make your balls melt off
like stardust in thick rain with cats cryin low distance
an everythin blowin all round respect see respect
it is like some beautiful death like the marines he was talking
semper distemper—like this last time I see him
only in his filth and hat
a one such a one was he when first beheld
now look black owl now fuckin look at me
—ah now soft they survey with temperate currents & it is more of
a shift than is first apparent as though the fingers that disengaged
the cervical suncogs the lesser cogs these engineered fractals of steam
were exholding the fetch the whole field itself barking as they
wonders within from the exo-inner
you can't do anything reasonable
in fog like this—no one can, not now
we are thinner come the breaking it is a mechanical
detachment we practice here in the Origo Colony
(who is boondock?)
this and no more
we are inured at least to animal ruptures
they looked out on a gaseous future landscape
run by wild dogs,he said, all shifty like he was then
I couldn't believe their eyes
.
Friday, October 29, 2010
keyboards like teeth
the killer at the station
clutching the memory of his moth
mother the killer at the playstation
clutching the mammary of his
disease doubletap frenetic as all
get out of here he was here I at least
saw him writhe with such intent I saw him
walks up to a car window sticks the gun
there and smiles at this moment
don't you want to be this free
to abandon all of the future
what a slave the future makes of all of us
how much better to jump ship
to abandon oneself to the army of ants
listen
the crawling comes in
on the stair I hear it
slow creep and hoot
it is only 1876 in this time zone
far too early even to get up yet
everywhere you look in this hot house
dead people
sit up
downstairs their mother
bakes away her breasts
such love as this
arrives by parachute
through thick cloud
even I crawled in to feel
for a moment the heat
you, octopus, you
.
clutching the memory of his moth
mother the killer at the playstation
clutching the mammary of his
disease doubletap frenetic as all
get out of here he was here I at least
saw him writhe with such intent I saw him
walks up to a car window sticks the gun
there and smiles at this moment
don't you want to be this free
to abandon all of the future
what a slave the future makes of all of us
how much better to jump ship
to abandon oneself to the army of ants
listen
the crawling comes in
on the stair I hear it
slow creep and hoot
it is only 1876 in this time zone
far too early even to get up yet
everywhere you look in this hot house
dead people
sit up
downstairs their mother
bakes away her breasts
such love as this
arrives by parachute
through thick cloud
even I crawled in to feel
for a moment the heat
you, octopus, you
.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
ooze
the advance the slip the pitch
who can remember these words when needed?
or their human configurations it was a black place
it is late already there is a ladder against the wall
a backyard some cigarette butts a dog or two
no light enters here between the forehead
and the prehistoric I almost cannot speak of it
but am guided by owls
a tilt a summoning into the familiar
my name it speaks my name and how
can I do other but step down from all this
into all that the advance the slip the pitch
it came then the understanding
that this was a summons into a place
in which there was only drowning
blah fucking blah at night they shoot the owls
around here
I miss a train the cab driver has to stop to laugh
when I tell him where I have been
oh no he says oh no you are joking
but I am not joking I have been there
and like a paycock I am shot down later
with words and slow fire flapping
as in their caves they sit drooling
black blood
hating
knowing little else now
sure of themselves and their big bodies
that didn't open
not for a second
.
who can remember these words when needed?
or their human configurations it was a black place
it is late already there is a ladder against the wall
a backyard some cigarette butts a dog or two
no light enters here between the forehead
and the prehistoric I almost cannot speak of it
but am guided by owls
a tilt a summoning into the familiar
my name it speaks my name and how
can I do other but step down from all this
into all that the advance the slip the pitch
it came then the understanding
that this was a summons into a place
in which there was only drowning
blah fucking blah at night they shoot the owls
around here
I miss a train the cab driver has to stop to laugh
when I tell him where I have been
oh no he says oh no you are joking
but I am not joking I have been there
and like a paycock I am shot down later
with words and slow fire flapping
as in their caves they sit drooling
black blood
hating
knowing little else now
sure of themselves and their big bodies
that didn't open
not for a second
.
Friday, October 15, 2010
lyric blowouts
it's late and the trees
it's late and the trees are in hoot
it's late and the trees hot gather
sole cahoot
it's late
the man with the frog in his mouth halfway up the stair
the man the frog stairs something in the cloud frogged me out
the keyboard is a slow politics what tyranny
I am in awe of you your codes that fire up slow
as heath burns hot and wet for weeks after
like weasels something in my mouth I can't
speak it is late and the trees at the window what
was that you where is my mind one pixie more or less
you do this or you die
oomph it comes in
circle of waiting this is not a communicative grammar
that must be left for the catch no one will now
(they might have done then)
it's late and the trees are boiling
I can't keep my head on
have none of it
all of us aslice
flaming slowly this blowing out
(yeah night imagine)
our own black and horrible birthdays
all of you are dead
whipping like kites
.
.
it's late and the trees are in hoot
it's late and the trees hot gather
sole cahoot
it's late
the man with the frog in his mouth halfway up the stair
the man the frog stairs something in the cloud frogged me out
the keyboard is a slow politics what tyranny
I am in awe of you your codes that fire up slow
as heath burns hot and wet for weeks after
like weasels something in my mouth I can't
speak it is late and the trees at the window what
was that you where is my mind one pixie more or less
you do this or you die
oomph it comes in
circle of waiting this is not a communicative grammar
that must be left for the catch no one will now
(they might have done then)
it's late and the trees are boiling
I can't keep my head on
have none of it
all of us aslice
flaming slowly this blowing out
(yeah night imagine)
our own black and horrible birthdays
all of you are dead
whipping like kites
.
.
Friday, October 08, 2010
An encounter at a waterfall in 1943 or maybe a year later
not to be abusive exactly
nor to be kind exactly
but to cut him down
they are not unkind
everything you need to know about this other human
can be understood from this congress of cavities
there is not much movement in it
by any geological considerations
but if you swim into it
oh put it here quick do it, she/he says in a voice
that opens him wide
he accepts it
as some crude distinction
at once limiting
and trivial -- O
think of this congress of the soft parts like excavated shellfish
warmed a little
sliding together in the twilight
a hum gathers over all of it
bells ring across the city at dawn
some emergency surely
they look for babies in the rubble
fog slides
their mouths move together
like shellfish now without shells
blind things mouthing without mouths
broken shell of a creature underfoot*
this is no longer confusing
he accepts it and goes far away
all the fight gone out of him
his mouth and his heart always ready
to say the same thing
if only it would be asked of him
* nothing
nor to be kind exactly
but to cut him down
they are not unkind
everything you need to know about this other human
can be understood from this congress of cavities
there is not much movement in it
by any geological considerations
but if you swim into it
oh put it here quick do it, she/he says in a voice
that opens him wide
he accepts it
as some crude distinction
at once limiting
and trivial -- O
think of this congress of the soft parts like excavated shellfish
warmed a little
sliding together in the twilight
a hum gathers over all of it
bells ring across the city at dawn
some emergency surely
they look for babies in the rubble
fog slides
their mouths move together
like shellfish now without shells
blind things mouthing without mouths
broken shell of a creature underfoot*
this is no longer confusing
he accepts it and goes far away
all the fight gone out of him
his mouth and his heart always ready
to say the same thing
if only it would be asked of him
* nothing
Sunday, October 03, 2010
angels everywhere angels
You are lying; the fish have spoken—Paul Gauguin
in this myth you are the spray
from his mouth
the keyboard lies there empty
there are gods apparently there are gods
but they do not approach
He is almost fastened so avid is he
to her mouth
she will have soreness
a rough reddening
if he got it right she won't care
other considerations will override this one
at this point everything explodes
there are cars full of innocent strangers
but all of them die horribly
we don't care, we keep driving
somewhere down there is a place
where they sell alcohol and drugs until dawn
in the East a cow's head
oh now you are my baby and will be so
until the morning tremor
I was mistaken
speak to me in Spanish or shut up
Vamos a tomar una copa?
///
.
in this myth you are the spray
from his mouth
the keyboard lies there empty
there are gods apparently there are gods
but they do not approach
He is almost fastened so avid is he
to her mouth
she will have soreness
a rough reddening
if he got it right she won't care
other considerations will override this one
at this point everything explodes
there are cars full of innocent strangers
but all of them die horribly
we don't care, we keep driving
somewhere down there is a place
where they sell alcohol and drugs until dawn
in the East a cow's head
oh now you are my baby and will be so
until the morning tremor
I was mistaken
speak to me in Spanish or shut up
Vamos a tomar una copa?
///
.
Saturday, October 02, 2010
mortar shells in deep softness
so full am I so rain and low pressure
so cyclonic with the urge to love you
in mountains and across wet pools
(now tell me they contain redundancy
if you are so foolish)
anyway so full so wide I am all
of recent towertops and Gothics
my arch really is your arch
pointed are we together at the span
of night I have got it now
all across the bay I am in love
like any other starfish any squid
that muscles up close and sings
one last song
baby please listen
to the last song of the silent squid
.
so cyclonic with the urge to love you
in mountains and across wet pools
(now tell me they contain redundancy
if you are so foolish)
anyway so full so wide I am all
of recent towertops and Gothics
my arch really is your arch
pointed are we together at the span
of night I have got it now
all across the bay I am in love
like any other starfish any squid
that muscles up close and sings
one last song
baby please listen
to the last song of the silent squid
.
if like this like this
hands in your hair
your hair your hair of olive wind
if a language flowing outward
if filaments of memory if even the trees
if everything here warm slow
wild and slow-wild if how you come to life
in my hands your hair flows out
if all morning so flowing out descending bright birds
inside us calling long ago this moment keens
your contours your hachures your rising and falling
your planes your whirling your little Sufi gasp
if like this, like this
heartbeat and breath and hollow ground
and midnight morning and all day and dusk that arcs between
blue spirit flames, radio crackles
and if along our hillsides
like this, like this, we start to collapse
in the fading red shadow of this our body
then this, this is the spray of night
[duende, red-black, in murmurs]
.
your hair your hair of olive wind
if a language flowing outward
if filaments of memory if even the trees
if everything here warm slow
wild and slow-wild if how you come to life
in my hands your hair flows out
if all morning so flowing out descending bright birds
inside us calling long ago this moment keens
your contours your hachures your rising and falling
your planes your whirling your little Sufi gasp
if like this, like this
heartbeat and breath and hollow ground
and midnight morning and all day and dusk that arcs between
blue spirit flames, radio crackles
and if along our hillsides
like this, like this, we start to collapse
in the fading red shadow of this our body
then this, this is the spray of night
[duende, red-black, in murmurs]
.
poem poem a straight poem
you will never understand this
because the sky does not lower
for examination
this magic rabbit more or less flies
over the road singing as he goes
no one knows now who threw him
oh yes guffaw I have written these notes
and no longer understand them
I am incomprehensible to myself
you have no chance
that rabbit look oh let us negotiate
I have drowned in myself
the same rabbit idiot on the hillside
the murderer enters in fancy dress
his ears aloft antennae switching
murder involves this acuity
you want to do it right
the best poet in the world doesn't write
she lives in a cave just below the surface
caressing her own breasts, weirdly
do you know that Atahualpa wore a shirt
made of hummingbird feathers? I'd like to think
it was a shirt of hummingbirds, and each of them
there by consent
what a humming
and a disturbance of the air
around that breast
just before Pizarro arrives and
starts to tread on them one by one.
Word sales run in inverse proportion to literary greatness
a shake over the river
seriously a wild moment of cloud and tremor
from the water a head rising
some vast island head of dragged green
all over it this same wet fury
this is not for you
it is all secret
even its words and footsteps
in all this silver shining night
.
because the sky does not lower
for examination
this magic rabbit more or less flies
over the road singing as he goes
no one knows now who threw him
oh yes guffaw I have written these notes
and no longer understand them
I am incomprehensible to myself
you have no chance
that rabbit look oh let us negotiate
I have drowned in myself
the same rabbit idiot on the hillside
the murderer enters in fancy dress
his ears aloft antennae switching
murder involves this acuity
you want to do it right
the best poet in the world doesn't write
she lives in a cave just below the surface
caressing her own breasts, weirdly
do you know that Atahualpa wore a shirt
made of hummingbird feathers? I'd like to think
it was a shirt of hummingbirds, and each of them
there by consent
what a humming
and a disturbance of the air
around that breast
just before Pizarro arrives and
starts to tread on them one by one.
Word sales run in inverse proportion to literary greatness
a shake over the river
seriously a wild moment of cloud and tremor
from the water a head rising
some vast island head of dragged green
all over it this same wet fury
this is not for you
it is all secret
even its words and footsteps
in all this silver shining night
.
Friday, October 01, 2010
Zoroastrian prayer
these lies these lies these lies
what are you thinking
you are a haze of flies in a field
somewhere I don't know where
maybe far away in some country
where lies are the thing the very thing
where games like this
are exactly the right stuff
explooosions take place in the night
we walk outside and marvel
at such egregious lies
look we cry open-mouthed
look oh God look at such bursting lies
if only we might emulate them
might travel to such fictions
find ourselves there amongst the stars
such superheroes such elevations
would we be there such constellate tridents
meanwhile you are a motherfucker
what got no wings
.
what are you thinking
you are a haze of flies in a field
somewhere I don't know where
maybe far away in some country
where lies are the thing the very thing
where games like this
are exactly the right stuff
explooosions take place in the night
we walk outside and marvel
at such egregious lies
look we cry open-mouthed
look oh God look at such bursting lies
if only we might emulate them
might travel to such fictions
find ourselves there amongst the stars
such superheroes such elevations
would we be there such constellate tridents
meanwhile you are a motherfucker
what got no wings
.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
wild chunks of nightly love
tundra, nothing escaping this dream and gas
head whole head
you want more
I have only holding
so full of love am I
ript from the shades your headlove
infernal ah but greatest one
audience think not that something was absent
all of you in my hand collapsed
I can't help these flattened fifths
where are you now
you, your
the drear barn
oh nothing, I meant nothing
your head exploding
suicide love bomber cheese what?
brain everywhere now
such love I feel
your ass through the window
now this
this
is sex
.
head whole head
you want more
I have only holding
so full of love am I
ript from the shades your headlove
infernal ah but greatest one
audience think not that something was absent
all of you in my hand collapsed
I can't help these flattened fifths
where are you now
you, your
the drear barn
oh nothing, I meant nothing
your head exploding
suicide love bomber cheese what?
brain everywhere now
such love I feel
your ass through the window
now this
this
is sex
.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
I want it to be earlier and then later
strange miracles of the world:
some interior Africa of the senses transported
it is 1870 within
the man with the toad in his mouth
sitting next to the woman
made of bricks
is unsure at this moment
whether it is more decorous
to drink on all fours
at the nearby waterhole
or to sip daintily from his own armpit
such are the complications of tradition
and sex politics
he conveys his uncertainty to the green giant
who answers only in prime numbers
upon whose advice he coughs up the large toad
and enters a new life as a hunter in the forest
you look strange, his friends tell him
more stray and feral by the day
it will soon be unlikely that we will invite you
to take syrups with us again
the man is unconcerned, even when the toad grows back
he feels he is on the right path
then a disaster overcomes him
his faculties are lost in some mucus
that floats down
at the last he thinks he sort of thinks
this at least is freedom
as he sinks he sort of sinks
his left bicep is found in a public pool
nearby are performing sharks
but no body is discovered in them
no one can prove anything
the whole bay seems to be full of secrets
you sense this from your room on the second floor
even through grey drapes of rain
but no one gasps enough
not enough to give anything away
,;0&==+tomorr%
the savage again the[]-oh christ this thing
of body easier at least with those animals
who have not gived birth several so forgiving
are they & all the while the tide
the mist the roll and slurry that it does
you what like just shot him when he needed help?
those guys oh those guys
what do we care really?
everywhere in the world is at war
far away I imagine what your mouth feels like
.
some interior Africa of the senses transported
it is 1870 within
the man with the toad in his mouth
sitting next to the woman
made of bricks
is unsure at this moment
whether it is more decorous
to drink on all fours
at the nearby waterhole
or to sip daintily from his own armpit
such are the complications of tradition
and sex politics
he conveys his uncertainty to the green giant
who answers only in prime numbers
upon whose advice he coughs up the large toad
and enters a new life as a hunter in the forest
you look strange, his friends tell him
more stray and feral by the day
it will soon be unlikely that we will invite you
to take syrups with us again
the man is unconcerned, even when the toad grows back
he feels he is on the right path
then a disaster overcomes him
his faculties are lost in some mucus
that floats down
at the last he thinks he sort of thinks
this at least is freedom
as he sinks he sort of sinks
his left bicep is found in a public pool
nearby are performing sharks
but no body is discovered in them
no one can prove anything
the whole bay seems to be full of secrets
you sense this from your room on the second floor
even through grey drapes of rain
but no one gasps enough
not enough to give anything away
,;0&==+tomorr%
the savage again the[]-oh christ this thing
of body easier at least with those animals
who have not gived birth several so forgiving
are they & all the while the tide
the mist the roll and slurry that it does
you what like just shot him when he needed help?
those guys oh those guys
what do we care really?
everywhere in the world is at war
far away I imagine what your mouth feels like
.
seven-league boots or something similar
so these few years it has lain there unused
its excitatory twist and hum unknown
all that splayed potential nestled dark
amongst folds and presses as of some dark inhuman interior
it is not a shibboleth it is just a thing
just an accident just a foolish gift
unpackaged now containing miraculous batteries
that somehow still make it writhe and drone
after years after several years
but never yet applied I am unfamiliar
with this new/old battery technology
I am behind the times my consciousness
stops at the drawer-front
beyond that is this other world of the future
which I do not wish to know
these miracles have fucked me
full of lies and magic batteries
the future past lies hidden
inside someone who knows nothing
of anything
at the first glimmer
she leaps over houses
chickens and kittens scatter
as she flies by
Rah Rah Rasputin
honest I was only urinating
through a letterbox
when the rain started
such messages I had within me
it lays there quiet and filled with dreams
sick now unto its magic batteries
.
its excitatory twist and hum unknown
all that splayed potential nestled dark
amongst folds and presses as of some dark inhuman interior
it is not a shibboleth it is just a thing
just an accident just a foolish gift
unpackaged now containing miraculous batteries
that somehow still make it writhe and drone
after years after several years
but never yet applied I am unfamiliar
with this new/old battery technology
I am behind the times my consciousness
stops at the drawer-front
beyond that is this other world of the future
which I do not wish to know
these miracles have fucked me
full of lies and magic batteries
the future past lies hidden
inside someone who knows nothing
of anything
at the first glimmer
she leaps over houses
chickens and kittens scatter
as she flies by
Rah Rah Rasputin
honest I was only urinating
through a letterbox
when the rain started
such messages I had within me
it lays there quiet and filled with dreams
sick now unto its magic batteries
.
Monday, September 20, 2010
oh you know some god that overslept
the server is not well found
look at the details
there at night the air itself at fault
you might imagine some scene of rocking
of the wind and sky travailed
but this is just a politic moment
in which he is flattened like sorghum
oh he cries too much
again I wake with a horse's head
instead of my own
but I am not of these mysteries of castration
though I would love to for a moment occupy
your time machine no no no
even in humanity a hit or miss governor
do you know nothing of mechanics?
after dark she they he all of them lilt like witches
of rivers and crossings
of the soft rains and squawks of doubt
morning eviscerates everything
he shudders soft in his wraps
wonders why he ever started something
that could never be ended
the sun rides him like a hammer
she takes over
she takes cover
she takes coverlets
raise your arms and think of the moon
something has just happened
something just dreadful
all down the Lune River a red streak
some hunched idiot in the rain tends a tiny fire
for years
it goes out
he is bewildered
he totters away
everything goes out now
even the animals go out
there is nothing here
tell you what
someone comes for me after this
they better come
with a storm in the heart
for I am finished with the simulations
.
look at the details
there at night the air itself at fault
you might imagine some scene of rocking
of the wind and sky travailed
but this is just a politic moment
in which he is flattened like sorghum
oh he cries too much
again I wake with a horse's head
instead of my own
but I am not of these mysteries of castration
though I would love to for a moment occupy
your time machine no no no
even in humanity a hit or miss governor
do you know nothing of mechanics?
after dark she they he all of them lilt like witches
of rivers and crossings
of the soft rains and squawks of doubt
morning eviscerates everything
he shudders soft in his wraps
wonders why he ever started something
that could never be ended
the sun rides him like a hammer
she takes over
she takes cover
she takes coverlets
raise your arms and think of the moon
something has just happened
something just dreadful
all down the Lune River a red streak
some hunched idiot in the rain tends a tiny fire
for years
it goes out
he is bewildered
he totters away
everything goes out now
even the animals go out
there is nothing here
tell you what
someone comes for me after this
they better come
with a storm in the heart
for I am finished with the simulations
.
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
wild laughter somewhere on the train
this little dropping ash
all of my children are in it
I see them hit the floor and explode
there is nothing I can do to stop this
I feel like a small god asphyxiating
in late sunlight (urgent cries FFS)
thrashing in its own sheets
you can't write the sound
of children exploding
ash
a man from the front carriage hastens
to shake my hand
he makes me furious
I accost him with my tiny umbrella
eventually on the island
I come around to the fact
that it is all over
all night I wash like a coconut
with the waves coming in hard
a dark man is buried in the sand
the waves will uncover him by morning
he is a pirate at least a fetch
the lighthouse sinks acoustic
your language
is a disaster
what anyway is retrofit?
are you mad?
if I had not looked when you looked
and when the train
use this to make your title
i got no use for you fuck
.
.
all of my children are in it
I see them hit the floor and explode
there is nothing I can do to stop this
I feel like a small god asphyxiating
in late sunlight (urgent cries FFS)
thrashing in its own sheets
you can't write the sound
of children exploding
ash
a man from the front carriage hastens
to shake my hand
he makes me furious
I accost him with my tiny umbrella
eventually on the island
I come around to the fact
that it is all over
all night I wash like a coconut
with the waves coming in hard
a dark man is buried in the sand
the waves will uncover him by morning
he is a pirate at least a fetch
the lighthouse sinks acoustic
your language
is a disaster
what anyway is retrofit?
are you mad?
if I had not looked when you looked
and when the train
use this to make your title
i got no use for you fuck
.
.
Sunday, September 05, 2010
goblin afar the thing
what is the epic form of Geology?
I have had enough of you, she says
I intend to shift to another layer
do you know that I can barely see?
some substrate has come between us
he.............................says
alone on the hill some cow of the vagabond future
fresh from weddings barely survived
says this
alone in the lias & layers I of all liars
lay least yeast
always looking in storms
to the east oh beast
that I am and unknowing
thankful that thin things at least
nothing was known
I am downhearted (she cries) at my new shape
i wish i could go beyond cowish things now
i wish i new what was
the epic form of meteorology
like you said rabbit child
I too down holes vanish
or of vanishing wish
.
I have had enough of you, she says
I intend to shift to another layer
do you know that I can barely see?
some substrate has come between us
he.............................says
alone on the hill some cow of the vagabond future
fresh from weddings barely survived
says this
alone in the lias & layers I of all liars
lay least yeast
always looking in storms
to the east oh beast
that I am and unknowing
thankful that thin things at least
nothing was known
I am downhearted (she cries) at my new shape
i wish i could go beyond cowish things now
i wish i new what was
the epic form of meteorology
like you said rabbit child
I too down holes vanish
or of vanishing wish
.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
rifle association
.
sit down you ugly scrape no I haven't
all the windows blasted in like that imagine
just a parrot that was all that was left
to speak for them the very sort of air and DNA
left there like that the high seas oh christ
just what a handcart rotten scraps am I
supposed to believe in history? the Clovis
I apologise all day on the same bench
no one knows this shit like my mate Charlie
he's your man for signing and stuff only
he is diseased now a air rifle out the back window
Georgie and Paul now that was no way to live
cans everywhere and a lawyer too then the Jazz starting
you're fucked mate yeah well only by your mother 3 to 2 they sledge
oh god attack attack my car got nicked
all day alone in the waterfall look an orange floating
in a million years you couldn't grab it
a little baby crow right in the middle
of Ambleside we had to stop the Runes
pressed us so he stripped off and went in
I was more cautious, less elevated
let me caress you such needs as I have
.
sit down you ugly scrape no I haven't
all the windows blasted in like that imagine
just a parrot that was all that was left
to speak for them the very sort of air and DNA
left there like that the high seas oh christ
just what a handcart rotten scraps am I
supposed to believe in history? the Clovis
I apologise all day on the same bench
no one knows this shit like my mate Charlie
he's your man for signing and stuff only
he is diseased now a air rifle out the back window
Georgie and Paul now that was no way to live
cans everywhere and a lawyer too then the Jazz starting
you're fucked mate yeah well only by your mother 3 to 2 they sledge
oh god attack attack my car got nicked
all day alone in the waterfall look an orange floating
in a million years you couldn't grab it
a little baby crow right in the middle
of Ambleside we had to stop the Runes
pressed us so he stripped off and went in
I was more cautious, less elevated
let me caress you such needs as I have
.
testing the banal reflex
.
what about you over the fence
with the wind whipping white about you
what about you?
all down the dingle the dell the dingle
dangle yards I collapse like reeling dreams
my house is full of the breathing of ghosts
I can't abide their nightly hoof
on the floor above the floor above O the latch
and the lantern and then
how about I live with you instead? where
is your other place
.............where I ///brush the animals at night///
moan of recent nuclear clouds O (how this is a folk song)
there you were (I couldn't understand it)
i had tryd evething
there you were (I at least serious could not
stand under it without you)
unsure of yourself
sure that you were a disaster of some kind
I was fucked up
I couldn't even hold your hand or touch your keys
on which it was my habit to spread
there were no volcanoes or earthquakes
lame shit like there were ever volcanoes or earthquakes
all of it was politics my chest heaved
itself out my lungs glocked purple
on your carpet but you were kind
you pretended not to notice
as my rats ran into you
you wanna smoke I asked then sure
you said why not let's both smoke
from all our holes at once? this is a movie
An Odysseus myth explaining the invention
of cigarettes: an all-consuming polythene sack
that contains endless moments
it whips there in the wind over the rags of fence
none of this is enough he is coming for me
over the church rooftop something animate cries
ripped away by bags of stark air
only just saw it, me
didn't see it at all just a flag a flit of something
fly there and the the the bells start up an inverse amnesty
of the innocent
diagram of ear wine glass wall episode loud unclear
late as elves the winewall of which glass pantoums
.
what about you over the fence
with the wind whipping white about you
what about you?
all down the dingle the dell the dingle
dangle yards I collapse like reeling dreams
my house is full of the breathing of ghosts
I can't abide their nightly hoof
on the floor above the floor above O the latch
and the lantern and then
how about I live with you instead? where
is your other place
.............where I ///brush the animals at night///
moan of recent nuclear clouds O (how this is a folk song)
there you were (I couldn't understand it)
i had tryd evething
there you were (I at least serious could not
stand under it without you)
unsure of yourself
sure that you were a disaster of some kind
I was fucked up
I couldn't even hold your hand or touch your keys
on which it was my habit to spread
there were no volcanoes or earthquakes
lame shit like there were ever volcanoes or earthquakes
all of it was politics my chest heaved
itself out my lungs glocked purple
on your carpet but you were kind
you pretended not to notice
as my rats ran into you
you wanna smoke I asked then sure
you said why not let's both smoke
from all our holes at once? this is a movie
An Odysseus myth explaining the invention
of cigarettes: an all-consuming polythene sack
that contains endless moments
it whips there in the wind over the rags of fence
none of this is enough he is coming for me
over the church rooftop something animate cries
ripped away by bags of stark air
only just saw it, me
didn't see it at all just a flag a flit of something
fly there and the the the bells start up an inverse amnesty
of the innocent
diagram of ear wine glass wall episode loud unclear
late as elves the winewall of which glass pantoums
.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Deb Calverley poetry reading.
My poetry mate and fellow conspirator from Winnipeg, Debbie Calverley, is giving a reading of her stuff at the Winnipeg Art Gallery on September 25th. It's a little far for me to attend (3300 miles!), but if you are in the area check it out and give her some support. The details are here:
http://www.culturedays.ca/en/celebration-schedule/view/4c62b2a5-f8c4-4bd4-ada4-0db44c4a89be
.
http://www.culturedays.ca/en/celebration-schedule/view/4c62b2a5-f8c4-4bd4-ada4-0db44c4a89be
.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Philishave & Violette
Thou shalt upon another forest set—John Donne
raising the sunken fleet a man at every pinnacle
such attenuated animosity
the only thing wrong with this building
is that there are places
from which it can be seen
Ho!
a giant pair of buttocks and a bus station
glint upon the eagle the late bell the backlit spume
all the earthly welter yours now
in code (the life that i have is yours &)
=francogerman erupt her name=
of course
face down in the attic bath
dot matrix
=wait for me and I'll return=
all the volga creek hey hey
a-wimoweh a wimoweh
in the pixels the quiet pixels
the bions leap to night
such a difference I suppose
.
raising the sunken fleet a man at every pinnacle
such attenuated animosity
the only thing wrong with this building
is that there are places
from which it can be seen
Ho!
a giant pair of buttocks and a bus station
glint upon the eagle the late bell the backlit spume
all the earthly welter yours now
in code (the life that i have is yours &)
=francogerman erupt her name=
of course
face down in the attic bath
dot matrix
=wait for me and I'll return=
all the volga creek hey hey
a-wimoweh a wimoweh
in the pixels the quiet pixels
the bions leap to night
such a difference I suppose
.
Sunday, August 08, 2010
Glock 26
fixed together at the lips like oysters
all the world sealed in a congress
without words or sound or silence
keep drawing it in keep only this
consciousness of mouth and eyes
in the dark world below fire
but only this shared space of mouth
eyes hollow ground heartbeat
breath fixed together at the hips
speak from below speak in no language
to and fro the air the mouth air
air of the hair and face hands around
a face and in the hair clutch
the air from within without sound
fix on this this kiss from here afar
all night one flute and a falling star
.
all the world sealed in a congress
without words or sound or silence
keep drawing it in keep only this
consciousness of mouth and eyes
in the dark world below fire
but only this shared space of mouth
eyes hollow ground heartbeat
breath fixed together at the hips
speak from below speak in no language
to and fro the air the mouth air
air of the hair and face hands around
a face and in the hair clutch
the air from within without sound
fix on this this kiss from here afar
all night one flute and a falling star
.
Saturday, August 07, 2010
white heads in spate
the man rams his head down the toilet violently
bang bang splash bang fucking bang
it's late at night he has a gun up his ass
the man now coneheaded from the ramming
wet and stupid and bloody and all a fury of sewage
he shouts to James Joyce
Jim you Jim come back up I hadn't finished Jim
Jim it's shit but not as we know it
briefly Jim's head drifts up
but retreats at the first headbutt
the man now has to catch a train he rushes out
to the station
what's with you all wet and covered in shit they ask
I was arguing with Jim he says fuck you
he is my muse
next time leave your muse at home the station
master says
or I personally kill you by nail your head
to the track how you like that?
he is a big guy
the man doesn't want to mess
but he can't help it
sorry he says now is that a rare ocelot in that tree
yonder?
when his back is turned the man
the toilet James Joyce man
rushes from behind and his head
enters the ass of the station master
who issues a suitable gumph
now the man parades upon the platform blind
as a shouting lollipop of nothing
drosophila of stem cells of words
Jim's head both eyes hanging poised
in urgent sewers
all up the line the winter whistle blows as mad
as white bowls of butterflies & blood
.
bang bang splash bang fucking bang
it's late at night he has a gun up his ass
the man now coneheaded from the ramming
wet and stupid and bloody and all a fury of sewage
he shouts to James Joyce
Jim you Jim come back up I hadn't finished Jim
Jim it's shit but not as we know it
briefly Jim's head drifts up
but retreats at the first headbutt
the man now has to catch a train he rushes out
to the station
what's with you all wet and covered in shit they ask
I was arguing with Jim he says fuck you
he is my muse
next time leave your muse at home the station
master says
or I personally kill you by nail your head
to the track how you like that?
he is a big guy
the man doesn't want to mess
but he can't help it
sorry he says now is that a rare ocelot in that tree
yonder?
when his back is turned the man
the toilet James Joyce man
rushes from behind and his head
enters the ass of the station master
who issues a suitable gumph
now the man parades upon the platform blind
as a shouting lollipop of nothing
drosophila of stem cells of words
Jim's head both eyes hanging poised
in urgent sewers
all up the line the winter whistle blows as mad
as white bowls of butterflies & blood
.
Friday, August 06, 2010
politics of the hipglass outcrowded
a young man a quite innocent man only really a bypasser
stops at the shop window to examine a display
horrorstruck he sees from the back of the shop
another man a naked man [maybe the naked shopkeeper
maybe a god in a low guise a satyr or pederast]
with an erection oh christ a look of delight run towards him
he crashes into the glass in slow motion the glass
the glass rises now in millibars of hectopascals of analects
of love and time's first forgotten disorient
crazes and maps itself cobwebs and meridians
of disaster spread now this is meaning slide into this
the whole street shimmy everything in birds of fracture
rupture around this flow this node of impact
perhaps made of steel first exits into the street
while from another world a different time register a crow
swoops in it pecks with fury at the shopkeeper's cock
he screams brings down the rest of the mosaic
in blinding jigsaw shatters the sky the entire sky
fatally injured spasms there in the street there & there
nods and collapses there the innocent young man the crow
the shopkeeper hover in CCTV glass falls around them
waterfalls & cataracts blind the moment the shopman
reaches for others a crow in his mouth blood runs
down his chest this now this he cries is politics at its best
.
stops at the shop window to examine a display
horrorstruck he sees from the back of the shop
another man a naked man [maybe the naked shopkeeper
maybe a god in a low guise a satyr or pederast]
with an erection oh christ a look of delight run towards him
he crashes into the glass in slow motion the glass
the glass rises now in millibars of hectopascals of analects
of love and time's first forgotten disorient
crazes and maps itself cobwebs and meridians
of disaster spread now this is meaning slide into this
the whole street shimmy everything in birds of fracture
rupture around this flow this node of impact
perhaps made of steel first exits into the street
while from another world a different time register a crow
swoops in it pecks with fury at the shopkeeper's cock
he screams brings down the rest of the mosaic
in blinding jigsaw shatters the sky the entire sky
fatally injured spasms there in the street there & there
nods and collapses there the innocent young man the crow
the shopkeeper hover in CCTV glass falls around them
waterfalls & cataracts blind the moment the shopman
reaches for others a crow in his mouth blood runs
down his chest this now this he cries is politics at its best
.
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
the press
it is an iron plate applied as The Question the question it is a fear
and a iron miner's miracule
(why do flies sink in lakes he asks well because of their spiracule)
of light and fission a fission of faces that now look
the fire the inquisitory press beneath which most things
cease to struggle or digress it is a rusty iron level
a heavy flat of a fatherhand but the witch stuff in this fug
the chug chug burd aloft jug jug bird O gone soft
is entirely contraband outwards eyeballs squeeze
inwards air doth rush upon the flags that gutter there
some ichor now doth gush and geeze & wheeze & fleas
O fleas: Mark, butt these fleas...
it is a heaviness and heft dragged up from in a delf
it is a squeak of kick and cock collapsed upon itself
a leaden place of heat and beat and it is then a river
slowed almost now to death
there skinned unto a sliver
now nothing can be known as true
as this press yet obtains
now sideward slick the sluices-oh
now outward slide the brains
I look upon myself anews
as planar kangaroo
what I awready knew's
in hi-winds i has blew
xxx
and a iron miner's miracule
(why do flies sink in lakes he asks well because of their spiracule)
of light and fission a fission of faces that now look
the fire the inquisitory press beneath which most things
cease to struggle or digress it is a rusty iron level
a heavy flat of a fatherhand but the witch stuff in this fug
the chug chug burd aloft jug jug bird O gone soft
is entirely contraband outwards eyeballs squeeze
inwards air doth rush upon the flags that gutter there
some ichor now doth gush and geeze & wheeze & fleas
O fleas: Mark, butt these fleas...
it is a heaviness and heft dragged up from in a delf
it is a squeak of kick and cock collapsed upon itself
a leaden place of heat and beat and it is then a river
slowed almost now to death
there skinned unto a sliver
now nothing can be known as true
as this press yet obtains
now sideward slick the sluices-oh
now outward slide the brains
I look upon myself anews
as planar kangaroo
what I awready knew's
in hi-winds i has blew
xxx
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
the trombone loneliness of the hammer monkey
gradually he became nothing
his voice lost its harmonics and grew thin
his friends dropped away
this was Buddhism he thought
this was the ranking southgate weatherfront farce of escape I will kill you
he says I will kill you with my smother my idiot submerging overcoat
out in the garden I fire over and over
many have I killed
you fucking scrape, he said
why are you there always?
in a stinking den a man grew a beard
look at me now
look at me
in the night he cogitates highly
real love is not that love that lasts forever
that is circumspection, survival
real love is the thing that lasts
for three weeks and brings you close to suicide
you are an electric cable
connected at one end
but not at the other
you are a boy in the rain sick of choirs
throwing a trombone
off a clifftop
somehow the wind gushes through its tunnel
it screams out low magma
it is a slow day
three boys are beating a monkey to death
by the roadside
with small bronze hammers
why would kudos be considered a plural anyway
and who would think such a thing?
and who would think such a thing
there are markers, coordinates
you are no longer ordinary
your time has not arrived
the man with the beard smelt bad
all night we stared at each other
but nothing was resolved
it was a city full of holes back then
left by the Luftwaffe
even years later
the holes unfilled
imagine the entire place in love
with nothing
just desperate now
to connect that other end of itself
to a grid that is understandable
for which there is a name
in such ways we have died like monkeys
at the hands of boys
who were unconnected
every generation the same
every god failing to ignite
a brass shadow falling
a low screech as the hammers climax
my little love
come hither
.
his voice lost its harmonics and grew thin
his friends dropped away
this was Buddhism he thought
this was the ranking southgate weatherfront farce of escape I will kill you
he says I will kill you with my smother my idiot submerging overcoat
out in the garden I fire over and over
many have I killed
you fucking scrape, he said
why are you there always?
in a stinking den a man grew a beard
look at me now
look at me
in the night he cogitates highly
real love is not that love that lasts forever
that is circumspection, survival
real love is the thing that lasts
for three weeks and brings you close to suicide
you are an electric cable
connected at one end
but not at the other
you are a boy in the rain sick of choirs
throwing a trombone
off a clifftop
somehow the wind gushes through its tunnel
it screams out low magma
it is a slow day
three boys are beating a monkey to death
by the roadside
with small bronze hammers
why would kudos be considered a plural anyway
and who would think such a thing?
and who would think such a thing
there are markers, coordinates
you are no longer ordinary
your time has not arrived
the man with the beard smelt bad
all night we stared at each other
but nothing was resolved
it was a city full of holes back then
left by the Luftwaffe
even years later
the holes unfilled
imagine the entire place in love
with nothing
just desperate now
to connect that other end of itself
to a grid that is understandable
for which there is a name
in such ways we have died like monkeys
at the hands of boys
who were unconnected
every generation the same
every god failing to ignite
a brass shadow falling
a low screech as the hammers climax
my little love
come hither
.
Saturday, July 03, 2010
supermarket terrorist consciousness
it is a bad time in the season of your throat
this is not that gag about Linda
Linda don't inflect yourself
on the crabshelf of lingual attack
a brother points age 4 says look
there there is a lady a tiny lady at night
she is just there across the water
you could almost have reached her with your fibres
but then nothing this is not that nun thing
that done thing that fling that they sing about warm beer
not there but here you hear
in far rooms the hoovers come and go
humming of Michael I worked in a hotel
in Israel
we plundered their fridges oh hell
feasted on their remains
the MFO and UN boys from the North
their scrota emptied into the well of Eilat
flat-feeling uncertain they went back
leaving steak and beer and plastic gin
always better after they leave she told us
their money left behind with their semen
floating out towards Aqaba
and the animals all running dry not that
it mattered cigarettes are cheap and days are long
full of whiteness everyone speaks a white sibilant
language under the breath and no one here
ever quite gets to it—occasionally the outburst
but that is nothing just the soldiers come home
late at night with lost keys for headbutting the door
open competitions the Norwegians were best
at this for their running up while the Americans
didn't wish for the same bruises but would be cruel
to the feral kittens round the lobby one morning
the Golden Gate got sploded all to bits we almost
but then a bag by its alone in the bus station
bricked up the Dung Gate long aloof
only spiders now listen ahoof listen early one morning
the gate explode the sire got shraps and flaffs
all up hizarm
he don't blame no one for not comin back
it's late after all
was just hopin for a party
he an Linda an Mike
once on a beach my sister belinda she pissed out the winda
the wind erased it all
anyone wanna fuckin arm wrassle
see him with the arm
lookin out on the bay
with all that attitude
the pigeons come here to drink they would say
they go back there to shit
no way of knowing what's best
not ever
.
this is not that gag about Linda
Linda don't inflect yourself
on the crabshelf of lingual attack
a brother points age 4 says look
there there is a lady a tiny lady at night
she is just there across the water
you could almost have reached her with your fibres
but then nothing this is not that nun thing
that done thing that fling that they sing about warm beer
not there but here you hear
in far rooms the hoovers come and go
humming of Michael I worked in a hotel
in Israel
we plundered their fridges oh hell
feasted on their remains
the MFO and UN boys from the North
their scrota emptied into the well of Eilat
flat-feeling uncertain they went back
leaving steak and beer and plastic gin
always better after they leave she told us
their money left behind with their semen
floating out towards Aqaba
and the animals all running dry not that
it mattered cigarettes are cheap and days are long
full of whiteness everyone speaks a white sibilant
language under the breath and no one here
ever quite gets to it—occasionally the outburst
but that is nothing just the soldiers come home
late at night with lost keys for headbutting the door
open competitions the Norwegians were best
at this for their running up while the Americans
didn't wish for the same bruises but would be cruel
to the feral kittens round the lobby one morning
the Golden Gate got sploded all to bits we almost
but then a bag by its alone in the bus station
bricked up the Dung Gate long aloof
only spiders now listen ahoof listen early one morning
the gate explode the sire got shraps and flaffs
all up hizarm
he don't blame no one for not comin back
it's late after all
was just hopin for a party
he an Linda an Mike
once on a beach my sister belinda she pissed out the winda
the wind erased it all
anyone wanna fuckin arm wrassle
see him with the arm
lookin out on the bay
with all that attitude
the pigeons come here to drink they would say
they go back there to shit
no way of knowing what's best
not ever
.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
A Youtube Channel for readings from the Burning Gorgeous anthology
We now have a Youtube channel for readings from the anthology. I am still feeling my way into this stuff at the moment, but I hope to improve. Anyway, it brings the characters to life a little and is worth a look:
CLICK HERE
CLICK HERE
found object
the centaur I once owned, No 3245, had an access ply hatch, screwed down, easy to remove for repair, after, springing a leak, always drain down in the winter, and remember, the force, exerted by the mass of water displaced, when slamming into turbulent seaway, useful to have access
.
.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
while we are drunk prime numbers eat our beloved pets
those idiot neighbours are rutting again
their grey drub like a monkey chained to a radiator
through the middle of it all a thick slick of clay
down which cattle
long ago
in the rain
puddled out a canal—in The Handbook of Wild Animals
of Britain and Europe it states that 'the situation is different
in the Baltic', of which one has little doubt
—it goes on to say that 'many large insects are eaten'
but this too is obvious in the circumstances
all day on the hilltops the grey slick mustered
and slid
he sat there on the road waiting for the lahar
which might release him from this intolerable banging
all night every night the same clanking of some ghost
locking doors his face in the pillow unshaven now
his breath all beer and barbecue and smoke
she lies awake for a long time afterwards wondering
about the headlights that spread magic lanterns
across her curtains and over the ceiling
Politics she thinks that's all it is
men just smell bad and snore
in the morning he wants more he is still drunk
but by now the barbecue has guttered and gone sour
on his breath
his advances are halfhearted and she buys him off with tea
and TV and the invigorating memories of who did what
there in the garden
the book says that 'they race through the treetops
and leap prodigiously'
she reads it in the shower watching the pages darken
clutching the cat tight against her stomach
in less than a minute it stops struggling
and the blood from the raking of her abdomen
swirls down into the plug
these are these are the moments she thinks
for which as children we yearned these are
the pregnant cat showers from which
there could be no return
almost without thinking she padlocks herself
to the radiator
starts to beat it with the cat a dead sort of clang
against the wall rings rang this she sighs yes
will give them things of which to think she thought she sang
he's still up there face down in his morning stink
she'll clean it all up later maybe his blink
if there's time
if the bells again
don't start to chime
.
their grey drub like a monkey chained to a radiator
through the middle of it all a thick slick of clay
down which cattle
long ago
in the rain
puddled out a canal—in The Handbook of Wild Animals
of Britain and Europe it states that 'the situation is different
in the Baltic', of which one has little doubt
—it goes on to say that 'many large insects are eaten'
but this too is obvious in the circumstances
all day on the hilltops the grey slick mustered
and slid
he sat there on the road waiting for the lahar
which might release him from this intolerable banging
all night every night the same clanking of some ghost
locking doors his face in the pillow unshaven now
his breath all beer and barbecue and smoke
she lies awake for a long time afterwards wondering
about the headlights that spread magic lanterns
across her curtains and over the ceiling
Politics she thinks that's all it is
men just smell bad and snore
in the morning he wants more he is still drunk
but by now the barbecue has guttered and gone sour
on his breath
his advances are halfhearted and she buys him off with tea
and TV and the invigorating memories of who did what
there in the garden
the book says that 'they race through the treetops
and leap prodigiously'
she reads it in the shower watching the pages darken
clutching the cat tight against her stomach
in less than a minute it stops struggling
and the blood from the raking of her abdomen
swirls down into the plug
these are these are the moments she thinks
for which as children we yearned these are
the pregnant cat showers from which
there could be no return
almost without thinking she padlocks herself
to the radiator
starts to beat it with the cat a dead sort of clang
against the wall rings rang this she sighs yes
will give them things of which to think she thought she sang
he's still up there face down in his morning stink
she'll clean it all up later maybe his blink
if there's time
if the bells again
don't start to chime
.
Sunday, June 06, 2010
nocturne
imagine a journey on a ship
and the ship is on fire
okay forget that you are floating
on clouds and you are a Hindu god
in the bushes off to the left something
is waiting for you and you are about to die
what does 'datejust' mean?
a man on a ship humiliates himself
he leaps on the table while drunk
and urinates in someone's soup
this is an old time steamer between
Liverpool and New York and your Mother
and he gets on stage and this is not
a Graham Greene novel—for some reason
Miles Davis is on this ship
and when the man starts urinating
in his soup he reaches up with fingers
almost each a foot long and takes him by the throat
pulls him down and says listen
but the man by now is too drunk and does not listen
he goes on to attack the captain who is looking
for ice and ought not to be assailed so
he shows his buttocks to the ladies in cabin 339
laughing as he does it oh life on a ship is such fun
but worst of all he sidles alongside the chaplain
who has by now spotted the ice and has no time to waste
hey you wanna do it he asks
not now not now says the chaplain
in the morning the man remembers little of this
but signals come in
by noon he knows enough
and something within him starts to die
his good intentions fail and he cannot
find it in him to venture on deck and apologise
to the other passengers
not that Miles wants an apology
Miles thinks he is a fuck and isn't interested today
in a fuck
while he rows through the bodies
the Purser's daughter's body was not violated
but the intentions had been clear enough
at 2am when he approached her bed
with suggestions of Jazz music
the man doesn't know how to return from this escapade
and he retires to his bunk
where he lies urinating in his own soup
buzzing like a kazoo
something has died in him from this confluence
of events
and he would rather now that he went down
with the ship
whose lights are even now going out
I have fucked up again he thinks
so profoundly this time
that though the ship sinks
I will lie here and mime
for you just can't keep doing
this pissing in soup
not if you want
to stay in the group
Miles sculls softly onward
imagine him there blowing and sculling
in the cold
nothing left
the Carpathia arriving hours later
asking
where's the president?
a great sea monster welling beneath
a m onkey a t the prow laughing its arse
off
oh just imagine the birth of Jazz on the frozen sea
little pixies in Elmo blue dancing everywhere
bears drowning on all sides coughing as they go
you ever see someone drown they cough then go quiet
but I love you you know I do
keep your hands off me
something went wrong
.
.
and the ship is on fire
okay forget that you are floating
on clouds and you are a Hindu god
in the bushes off to the left something
is waiting for you and you are about to die
what does 'datejust' mean?
a man on a ship humiliates himself
he leaps on the table while drunk
and urinates in someone's soup
this is an old time steamer between
Liverpool and New York and your Mother
and he gets on stage and this is not
a Graham Greene novel—for some reason
Miles Davis is on this ship
and when the man starts urinating
in his soup he reaches up with fingers
almost each a foot long and takes him by the throat
pulls him down and says listen
but the man by now is too drunk and does not listen
he goes on to attack the captain who is looking
for ice and ought not to be assailed so
he shows his buttocks to the ladies in cabin 339
laughing as he does it oh life on a ship is such fun
but worst of all he sidles alongside the chaplain
who has by now spotted the ice and has no time to waste
hey you wanna do it he asks
not now not now says the chaplain
in the morning the man remembers little of this
but signals come in
by noon he knows enough
and something within him starts to die
his good intentions fail and he cannot
find it in him to venture on deck and apologise
to the other passengers
not that Miles wants an apology
Miles thinks he is a fuck and isn't interested today
in a fuck
while he rows through the bodies
the Purser's daughter's body was not violated
but the intentions had been clear enough
at 2am when he approached her bed
with suggestions of Jazz music
the man doesn't know how to return from this escapade
and he retires to his bunk
where he lies urinating in his own soup
buzzing like a kazoo
something has died in him from this confluence
of events
and he would rather now that he went down
with the ship
whose lights are even now going out
I have fucked up again he thinks
so profoundly this time
that though the ship sinks
I will lie here and mime
for you just can't keep doing
this pissing in soup
not if you want
to stay in the group
Miles sculls softly onward
imagine him there blowing and sculling
in the cold
nothing left
the Carpathia arriving hours later
asking
where's the president?
a great sea monster welling beneath
a m onkey a t the prow laughing its arse
off
oh just imagine the birth of Jazz on the frozen sea
little pixies in Elmo blue dancing everywhere
bears drowning on all sides coughing as they go
you ever see someone drown they cough then go quiet
but I love you you know I do
keep your hands off me
something went wrong
.
.
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
maybe Iran 1940 everything starting to die
dead und dgrdtion//i hf nu avid avid what do you look like
you fool
you ful some yu fool the collision was awready happen
over and above the consequences there were
to be considered the humans
my parrot what this parrot here?
I will kill it now with a stick by God I will
if you want to be friends then stroke better
and carefuller like look
a picture has now emerged from the oil shapes-----
this company is not fucked though buy shares now quick
divers divers down davit down
there remotely people how lonely
their legs caUght in clam clutches how they saw/away/ey
their limbs and everyone such a limb/mb
such moments as these
not ever in one's lifetime not ever
robots not relied on
I never expected that it wouldn't get erect
I mean it's never happened before
I can't imagine what she thinks of me now
all that big-titted oil and everything
It's out there like a reputation
everyone sitting round
.....................hating
everyone sitting round like it is an orgy
she even using her teeth and none of us sure
alla them are like fish with the mouth full up
with shit not one a them a good thing to say
here I am face down agasp why do you not
care
come back to bed honey
it's not our business
.
you fool
you ful some yu fool the collision was awready happen
over and above the consequences there were
to be considered the humans
my parrot what this parrot here?
I will kill it now with a stick by God I will
if you want to be friends then stroke better
and carefuller like look
a picture has now emerged from the oil shapes-----
this company is not fucked though buy shares now quick
divers divers down davit down
there remotely people how lonely
their legs caUght in clam clutches how they saw/away/ey
their limbs and everyone such a limb/mb
such moments as these
not ever in one's lifetime not ever
robots not relied on
I never expected that it wouldn't get erect
I mean it's never happened before
I can't imagine what she thinks of me now
all that big-titted oil and everything
It's out there like a reputation
everyone sitting round
.....................hating
everyone sitting round like it is an orgy
she even using her teeth and none of us sure
alla them are like fish with the mouth full up
with shit not one a them a good thing to say
here I am face down agasp why do you not
care
come back to bed honey
it's not our business
.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
at owl bridge a hanging
she sits there in front of me
she has all the assumption of authority
& I am only here to be told what to do
guided you want to put it like that
adjudicated upon you want to put it
through the desk I can't help think
this is a porn movie set she is quite large
her bare arms ripple slightly like long tulips
I can do it anyway if required merely
a kiss can set me off like a kite
she looks to me forty eight alcoholic unhealthy
bitter she looks I imagine her lying back
over the desk like cheese somehow
my shades descending but these moments
of fantasy pass and love now comes upon me
I love you I tell her I love you
I wish we had met earlier when I was still young
I understand that she feels challenged by my love
but I don't know what is script and what is me
are you mad she says
I don't know I say I thought you would tell me
okay she says I will chance everything
come and show me how mad you are
her little dog yaps at our feet as we do it
there on the Rubella leaflets and free condoms
she takes on a neck flush as we separate
yes she says
you are mad
I will refer you
to the madness people
oh I say
I thought maybe I was
but wasn't sure
as my madness settles down
into my lower limbs
like flamingoes upon a lake
waves and wind flowing out
she a sheer octopus
feeling herself quick to see what's missing
our mouths somehow
stuck together fright
all over us like turtles heading
out into the deep blue
frightened by a song offshore
oh baby I say
fuck she says and the frets
already rolling
.
she has all the assumption of authority
& I am only here to be told what to do
guided you want to put it like that
adjudicated upon you want to put it
through the desk I can't help think
this is a porn movie set she is quite large
her bare arms ripple slightly like long tulips
I can do it anyway if required merely
a kiss can set me off like a kite
she looks to me forty eight alcoholic unhealthy
bitter she looks I imagine her lying back
over the desk like cheese somehow
my shades descending but these moments
of fantasy pass and love now comes upon me
I love you I tell her I love you
I wish we had met earlier when I was still young
I understand that she feels challenged by my love
but I don't know what is script and what is me
are you mad she says
I don't know I say I thought you would tell me
okay she says I will chance everything
come and show me how mad you are
her little dog yaps at our feet as we do it
there on the Rubella leaflets and free condoms
she takes on a neck flush as we separate
yes she says
you are mad
I will refer you
to the madness people
oh I say
I thought maybe I was
but wasn't sure
as my madness settles down
into my lower limbs
like flamingoes upon a lake
waves and wind flowing out
she a sheer octopus
feeling herself quick to see what's missing
our mouths somehow
stuck together fright
all over us like turtles heading
out into the deep blue
frightened by a song offshore
oh baby I say
fuck she says and the frets
already rolling
.
Monday, May 24, 2010
lights over the Lune
is it true that when Beefheart then a vacuum cleaner salesman
by chaQNCe met the Grea=t Aldous Huxley on a doorstep
and in a moment of fear and amoksha did point to a specimen
of his wares and cry aloud sir this sucks? <<>> aldous being blind
took this as a general utterance of discontent and admonished
gently the disaffected young man he saw hanging in his thoughts
above a blue pool wherein did disport various fishes and mokshamen
a gulf then there was with only an unseen vacuum to fill it
Mr Beefheart sensing this whipped up once more his dogs & swung north
.
by chaQNCe met the Grea=t Aldous Huxley on a doorstep
and in a moment of fear and amoksha did point to a specimen
of his wares and cry aloud sir this sucks? <<>> aldous being blind
took this as a general utterance of discontent and admonished
gently the disaffected young man he saw hanging in his thoughts
above a blue pool wherein did disport various fishes and mokshamen
a gulf then there was with only an unseen vacuum to fill it
Mr Beefheart sensing this whipped up once more his dogs & swung north
.
Vliet
the desert lilt of it as though some ethereal caravan
was crashing nearby tinkerbells above the deep Omission
his finger his hat pointing cactus needle speculum and spike
you anther you anther at some point every man must consider
the transplanting of body parts must yearn for the hastening
of stem cell reality wire me up O that I may emerge fixed
but no he didn't think like that come on though oh come on
who would you be who given the chance but no he who didn't
in his caravan of souls what cliché pointing stabbing grabbing
heat and air what from the body is it possible he says is it active
is it a head on a stick that we might or might now not well is it?
or has this been tested how many years do you want taken away
captain my captain of wavetops & outcrops here he says hold
it for me & feel free to pump for it is loaded already but this
is not how our sink comes about startled as an ass at dawn
oh this discovery that every which and all anyway on the roof
all of us hold tight to our little things lest sucked away
we get and overcome sick as little dogs red red strawberry
douse it now before fire emerges from the forceps you you
he says again you it is you of whom I speak devil clutch for
I will at candle hour remember those lost watches
soft as out they outgas
.
was crashing nearby tinkerbells above the deep Omission
his finger his hat pointing cactus needle speculum and spike
you anther you anther at some point every man must consider
the transplanting of body parts must yearn for the hastening
of stem cell reality wire me up O that I may emerge fixed
but no he didn't think like that come on though oh come on
who would you be who given the chance but no he who didn't
in his caravan of souls what cliché pointing stabbing grabbing
heat and air what from the body is it possible he says is it active
is it a head on a stick that we might or might now not well is it?
or has this been tested how many years do you want taken away
captain my captain of wavetops & outcrops here he says hold
it for me & feel free to pump for it is loaded already but this
is not how our sink comes about startled as an ass at dawn
oh this discovery that every which and all anyway on the roof
all of us hold tight to our little things lest sucked away
we get and overcome sick as little dogs red red strawberry
douse it now before fire emerges from the forceps you you
he says again you it is you of whom I speak devil clutch for
I will at candle hour remember those lost watches
soft as out they outgas
.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
half-assed poetry reading with Crowleyan headgear
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzvJUNVz7n0
Keep meaning to get around to doing more of these, and doing it better. This was the first Youtube one anyway.
Steve.
Keep meaning to get around to doing more of these, and doing it better. This was the first Youtube one anyway.
Steve.
Monday, May 10, 2010
the move around
a man walking by sees the burning
of course he remarks upon it to his companion
who happens to be his wife who he met years ago
at a student party it was touch and go back then
because he was unimpressed by her physique
similarly she was less than impressed
and thought he was a drunkard who shouted
in kitchens further back she was anyway
not inclined to give him a break
because of his association with shouty boys and he was
wow disinclined to approach
in the later lamplight they lurked and lurked
now and though they are all of love and
love's secrets look at them there
in the firelight attack
which of them would you prefer to be?
the long haired hassassin or the woman
who has no boundaries cloud
me I got no preference any old shit
will do in this life at the edge of the waterfall
clutching my cock
running out greenfaced greatcoat fungal hark
scaring the kids
I am a bad man of paper paper
you should hang on your wall
beans all down my face
how about you you in love or what?
been a while
.
of course he remarks upon it to his companion
who happens to be his wife who he met years ago
at a student party it was touch and go back then
because he was unimpressed by her physique
similarly she was less than impressed
and thought he was a drunkard who shouted
in kitchens further back she was anyway
not inclined to give him a break
because of his association with shouty boys and he was
wow disinclined to approach
in the later lamplight they lurked and lurked
now and though they are all of love and
love's secrets look at them there
in the firelight attack
which of them would you prefer to be?
the long haired hassassin or the woman
who has no boundaries cloud
me I got no preference any old shit
will do in this life at the edge of the waterfall
clutching my cock
running out greenfaced greatcoat fungal hark
scaring the kids
I am a bad man of paper paper
you should hang on your wall
beans all down my face
how about you you in love or what?
been a while
.
Wednesday, May 05, 2010
some elevations of the limpet in fierce cloud
a thing like limpets in the wash
as the whole ocean floods over
mouth to mouth can you imagine?
really mouth and the world
how important this can seem
no it is too vast to pass over
in the heather in the streams
the flutters that run down
opened out into sunlight as
they widen now here branches
stop it look again look at it
at night the rivers go quiet
still mouths [singing] as though
the waters that made them
were not yet finished like
survival was this last flick
of the body on the field
no no if this doesn't work
now cling with your mouth
.
as the whole ocean floods over
mouth to mouth can you imagine?
really mouth and the world
how important this can seem
no it is too vast to pass over
in the heather in the streams
the flutters that run down
opened out into sunlight as
they widen now here branches
stop it look again look at it
at night the rivers go quiet
still mouths [singing] as though
the waters that made them
were not yet finished like
survival was this last flick
of the body on the field
no no if this doesn't work
now cling with your mouth
.
lost loves dance in Time
the flower the steel and titanium flower
that opens inside the man who is looking
as hard as he can at his lover's breasts
pornography is known to wreck humans
there's no way out of this
.
that opens inside the man who is looking
as hard as he can at his lover's breasts
pornography is known to wreck humans
there's no way out of this
.
Tuesday, May 04, 2010
song for Richard and Karen
seemed like Quantum Mechanics had entered a social scene
in the firelight each of us suspiciously attempting support
he sat there wretched in it all she was out there somewhere
looking for him he felt her like a searchlight over Cologne
with Song For Karen playing in the back he laughed even he
had to laugh when it said goodbye Richard it was like an omen
he must look back on this time and shiver for a door had opened
in the wind and he had only half stepped through it there he
wavered between these magnetic forces trivially swaying
like any of us attempting to lighten the unbearable she arrived
vigorously and took him home I don't know what happened next
but the other woman Jo I think went back to her dentistry alone
down the arches of our slender adulthood small forces rang out
some violation over the lake across the fields far back in the woods
this woman sitting in a bath covered in feathers it is hard to believe
but there amongst the terraces these really were such times
.
in the firelight each of us suspiciously attempting support
he sat there wretched in it all she was out there somewhere
looking for him he felt her like a searchlight over Cologne
with Song For Karen playing in the back he laughed even he
had to laugh when it said goodbye Richard it was like an omen
he must look back on this time and shiver for a door had opened
in the wind and he had only half stepped through it there he
wavered between these magnetic forces trivially swaying
like any of us attempting to lighten the unbearable she arrived
vigorously and took him home I don't know what happened next
but the other woman Jo I think went back to her dentistry alone
down the arches of our slender adulthood small forces rang out
some violation over the lake across the fields far back in the woods
this woman sitting in a bath covered in feathers it is hard to believe
but there amongst the terraces these really were such times
.
Sunday, May 02, 2010
marvels from the East
so underwater as they are make me dream
of octopus—Madeleine Shine
oh god oh god he keeps saying and this
is half an hour after the fact no reason that he should still
be thrashing and moaning like that oh god oh god oh shut up
she lies there waiting for this to subside
eventually she says oh look I have to sleep now
yes he says but I can't stop something has happened
I can't stop coming and look and here he whips up
the sheets and says look how the head of my cock
now glows greeny blue and fluorescent it is because
now I understand all things all politics and all of nature
this is now my node and my zone and my antenna
what have you done to me I feel that I am now
almost a god oh god oh god
yes she says almost a god you are darlin
now tell me about it in the morning
now turn your dick off please for at all times I hate blue lights
into the night alone oh god
.
.
of octopus—Madeleine Shine
oh god oh god he keeps saying and this
is half an hour after the fact no reason that he should still
be thrashing and moaning like that oh god oh god oh shut up
she lies there waiting for this to subside
eventually she says oh look I have to sleep now
yes he says but I can't stop something has happened
I can't stop coming and look and here he whips up
the sheets and says look how the head of my cock
now glows greeny blue and fluorescent it is because
now I understand all things all politics and all of nature
this is now my node and my zone and my antenna
what have you done to me I feel that I am now
almost a god oh god oh god
yes she says almost a god you are darlin
now tell me about it in the morning
now turn your dick off please for at all times I hate blue lights
into the night alone oh god
.
.
Friday, April 30, 2010
man of the flies
oh you get sick but you try to make it right
by thinking hard of kings and Viking ships
maybe History could make the difference
the assumption is that there is a Thing
out there somewhere in there somewhere
that everyone knows
to which they can be summoned
before which they will stand deflated
outside of which
all of us are flies
this is the thing with Justice
its gears
its voice
but there's nothing
but the clamour
as the flies home in
a week from now
your family will recoil
when they lift the sheet
I live by the river—Joe Strummer
.
by thinking hard of kings and Viking ships
maybe History could make the difference
the assumption is that there is a Thing
out there somewhere in there somewhere
that everyone knows
to which they can be summoned
before which they will stand deflated
outside of which
all of us are flies
this is the thing with Justice
its gears
its voice
but there's nothing
but the clamour
as the flies home in
a week from now
your family will recoil
when they lift the sheet
I live by the river—Joe Strummer
.
hands like a rabbit
Chipul tau si dragostea tin dei (your face and the love from the linden trees)
—O-Zone
always the/a momentum of love the flywheel as though credit
were bestowed by belief alone the subjunctive barnacle penis
coiled in the head now unflipped in the tracks of back brain flick
a small dog by the back door of a vacated house waits
I saunter deep past in the pool room like everything is easy
still every nuance laden with water running in everywhere
by Friday we are up to our throats to sustain the conversation
we eat flies we discuss the solitary sex habits of Karl Marx
and Margaret Thatcher we know Death is near but Love
really dreamed up by Japanese students as a sensible alternative
to ripping out the aliment in shame(baba)no one now remembers
no don't stop keep running the tape I can't stop believing
not yet
.
—O-Zone
always the/a momentum of love the flywheel as though credit
were bestowed by belief alone the subjunctive barnacle penis
coiled in the head now unflipped in the tracks of back brain flick
a small dog by the back door of a vacated house waits
I saunter deep past in the pool room like everything is easy
still every nuance laden with water running in everywhere
by Friday we are up to our throats to sustain the conversation
we eat flies we discuss the solitary sex habits of Karl Marx
and Margaret Thatcher we know Death is near but Love
really dreamed up by Japanese students as a sensible alternative
to ripping out the aliment in shame(baba)no one now remembers
no don't stop keep running the tape I can't stop believing
not yet
.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
history of the kite riff
little boys under the tree in ragged shorts legs stung to fuck at night the sheets
heavy almost wetted with damp the walls thick as dawn hillfog stifling the sheep
cries six layers of wool blanket and the mortar falling out white and limey porridge
every morning the range coughs up a stirring mother thin as a wooden spoon
cracked down the middle from want a boy in a hammock our only toy a net
laden spinning between trees stop it he cries at night mice on your chest so tame
you can pick them up but not the rats my brother gets his thumbnail bitten off
waking to a big one you smell them under the floorboards rotting with the Warfarin
can't drink it burns them deep but you can't dig them out fucking hippies dancing
up there on the hilltop drugged as rats in head-high nettles just think what they
are doing in the mist Granddad on the roof making his last kite just think she said
miles it went out across the valley far as aeroplanes we never knew such kite flight
as this RM Ballantyne rescued from a burnt house scorched but wild dogs the coral
the stitched sacking you know how many rats in a hay barn gather they cry now
with pitchforks the last bale lifted they start running a tine through the middle they
hiss and bite like overdone porridge bubbling its last bloody geology the woman
stands there impervious to hot spitting thin and surrendered martyred, spooned out mother.
heavy almost wetted with damp the walls thick as dawn hillfog stifling the sheep
cries six layers of wool blanket and the mortar falling out white and limey porridge
every morning the range coughs up a stirring mother thin as a wooden spoon
cracked down the middle from want a boy in a hammock our only toy a net
laden spinning between trees stop it he cries at night mice on your chest so tame
you can pick them up but not the rats my brother gets his thumbnail bitten off
waking to a big one you smell them under the floorboards rotting with the Warfarin
can't drink it burns them deep but you can't dig them out fucking hippies dancing
up there on the hilltop drugged as rats in head-high nettles just think what they
are doing in the mist Granddad on the roof making his last kite just think she said
miles it went out across the valley far as aeroplanes we never knew such kite flight
as this RM Ballantyne rescued from a burnt house scorched but wild dogs the coral
the stitched sacking you know how many rats in a hay barn gather they cry now
with pitchforks the last bale lifted they start running a tine through the middle they
hiss and bite like overdone porridge bubbling its last bloody geology the woman
stands there impervious to hot spitting thin and surrendered martyred, spooned out mother.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
huzzah silver surfer
the bearded guy so unlike the weather
with the fat ketch by the outer wall
only caught this in the corner of my eye
kept popping up hey I cried at last
are you the rat from that story
he popped down he said nothing
hey I shouted it's too late now
too late the waves already were coming in
he was riding on them silver surfer
his glistening back I saw
as it zinged past hurrah I did shout
I popped back down it seemed only right
.
with the fat ketch by the outer wall
only caught this in the corner of my eye
kept popping up hey I cried at last
are you the rat from that story
he popped down he said nothing
hey I shouted it's too late now
too late the waves already were coming in
he was riding on them silver surfer
his glistening back I saw
as it zinged past hurrah I did shout
I popped back down it seemed only right
.
Friday, April 23, 2010
prose monsters unforgiven
your head oh flit past that
baby you little darling you
have seen as I have the triumphant state
but really both of us heads down
know nothing of politics now
it is just not enough
to roll one's tongue in such
circumstances
really there must be more technique
more consideration given
to the basic frictions and their complexities
for either of us to surface from these tissues
holding together a head intact
these are the days of love
all of us shoved full of Love
one day we will walk clear
jesus does no one understand me yet
here in the ash rivers I bestride
sucking at the only things
the only things I know
.
baby you little darling you
have seen as I have the triumphant state
but really both of us heads down
know nothing of politics now
it is just not enough
to roll one's tongue in such
circumstances
really there must be more technique
more consideration given
to the basic frictions and their complexities
for either of us to surface from these tissues
holding together a head intact
these are the days of love
all of us shoved full of Love
one day we will walk clear
jesus does no one understand me yet
here in the ash rivers I bestride
sucking at the only things
the only things I know
.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
of the care for the complexes of partners
so would rather see women
get fat on the seashore
pull the heads off crabs
stuff the wings into their cheeks
suck at the gills
little legs writhe out of their ears
talk passion about sand
glass and vitrification
under the barnacles the weedy timbers
at night some adolescent flow comes in
assume like slow murmillone fish
the adipose corners of this tissue
you you you he bubbles out at the last
were not as I thought
you thought nothing she scales left
perceiving new brightness
in the cave roofs along which bells
of the bottletop church advance
.
get fat on the seashore
pull the heads off crabs
stuff the wings into their cheeks
suck at the gills
little legs writhe out of their ears
talk passion about sand
glass and vitrification
under the barnacles the weedy timbers
at night some adolescent flow comes in
assume like slow murmillone fish
the adipose corners of this tissue
you you you he bubbles out at the last
were not as I thought
you thought nothing she scales left
perceiving new brightness
in the cave roofs along which bells
of the bottletop church advance
.
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