Tuesday, August 11, 2009

gimme that old time religion

sauvage (I know you don't like but let it spread
the world/weep for a ruminous presence in the channel
listen listen again to the codes that fly in
we are into it now this triangulation

I have you fixed . . . I approach at night
sleek and slick with oils of the body you nestle there

[insert Roy Orbison]

in the offset of dreams

in the whirl of out of date
no longer for consumption

a little glimmer

so we advance

into the third nest we go
huddle there
open mouths incapable of the merest flap
all of us finally aware & stark the moment

O you have fucked my girlfriend
or something
things like that

this how shoved tiny
we feel stuff
Charles Manson desperate to be loved
it all turning inward outward sour sick love

love me love me he cries he carves he craves
he cavorts there at the mind's edge cutting
swastikas of fucked love

even this holy hate is just love
as hunger
...........eating at itself like stuffpig

this what I mean
tiny complication
tower over us each morning in the sandstone
do you see
the little birds sedimented
sacrificial children
there in the frozen grit

quick before they melt away?


so we huddle

now we are entering the deeps

reference to nothing typewritten (learn more)

it is not possible to be fully happy
if you are sentient
in such a place
but at least one can smoke
in the corner
by which I mean that masturbation
and eating are acceptable practices
under the same Sun we shift
moonbeam motherfucker


caring made uneasy just because yes this again

leading lights down Lune Deep

father a convicted paedophile mother a drug addict
how the labels trip off into a general heading
a compass bearing into the ferns

see where a trail treads in
but nothing emerges

now follow this deep channel
look down look down says Bill

this is all make believe shapeshift

they killed your heart
killed your future
who did?

time did...

no wait it's a bricked-up cave full of bats
you can't see in
you'll have to imagine what they do in there
in the few days before they die

it doesn't just pass down it gets worse

people kill a child
they do worse things to themselves

suicide is murder
and self-abuse is abuse

it is impossible to speak from the trees outside

we won't fix this until we jerk that Hitler
died before he was a teenager

it all seems so big here
the trees the houses the people
all of them outlandish
sparkling like crows over carrion
have you seen this shine?

fighting so hard for the right
to be powerless
without lift
sucked down into it

ringing its own big bell on the causeway


every little person doing
the worst best they can


I almost believe in God


Monday, August 10, 2009

the soft and quiet way in to the back room

it comes on
the black librarian with all sails
full up with quiet
his huge handclap
over the ears and mouth
urgent with disaster
it comes on

I will need help
in this new world
with such airs shining

with such dazzling murder stifled agog
I wish I was in Dixie
with the trees walking
the clouds talking

but a flat earth floats above

hush little baby
a bad man is coming upstairs

one day all this
will be yours)

in dreams I stand there
with a spear
looking down into darkness

who's there?
who's there?

will I sacrifice myself?

is there understanding in this wake
of the inept surge towards stairtops?

a new moment without commas has come
under it
the ground rumbles


instances of barnstorming at the last

O you people you spirit vagrants
whose necks do not twitch
when the dawn hits like roosters
sitting on cold chimney stacks
I can't help you

a wind there was a wind
that flapped around the world

what did you know of it
there in the dark circus?

my mother stuck a pig's head neck down
in the tarmac
like a challenge
—this is a reality I can't convey

we took it from there
we lay together
we softened slowly

then in a sudden wind

his moment of Zen
his analysis
which I took to heart
was that he'd only been here for the beer

this sadness flooded the place

I needed wild wild cranes to bring me back
to such urgent hooting


sea area Irish Sea never-drift-never wreck at low water

she leans close and asks
do I have a girlfriend
she reaches up my sleeve
feels my bicep like it is
a tulip swelling
a phallic cipher

I'm only here for the beer
says her grinning boyfriend

they want me to go home with them

the engine whines then breaks
we drift
it's sunny and the sea shines
I enter the sea
spin the propeller
both ways
it's not stuck
but something is wrong

we're just like that around here
she says
you can't buy a drink

outside in the broken glass and blood
little things crawling
not insects or mice
little things
looking up asking

the Fleetwood lifeboat tows us in
along the buoyed channel

all of this is lost in the static

we were somewhere North West of the perch
280 degrees off the West Cardinal drifting
in shallow water without personal power

when the Vampire struck

it took two of us off before we realised

you want to know truth
ask a traffic light


Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

I don't know what you mean

all of our words
hang above an underground lake
words are totally silent things

don't think they have sound

all that can be heard are the drips
that rain from the roof

below this is another chamber
into which the drops transpire
through layers of rock

below this another

it's not turtles all the way

it's lakes

none of it is what it is
only what it's above
and below

it should be working about now
the paralysis


Sunday, August 02, 2009

Jeremy Brett

Poirot nothing—
Jeremy Brett
was Zen
in the Art of Archery


Saturday, August 01, 2009

unedited tagflarf Jesus

I enjoy mind games.!. .wtf? Really seems .like half the wo.men have .head .issu.es, n.ot me! I'm the pos.ter child for ze.nitude. I was a littl.e bored so I .went online to see .w.hat was g.oing .on. I c.ame. a.cross. your profile page a.n.d wanted to sen.d you .a little message. I th.ink you live nearby and that's .a .HUG.E plus. Not .sure .though because .I'm just vis.iting the area .and .sta.ying .wi.th a frien.d. I'm into most types of ph.ysical acti.viti.es, but NO.T into on.e night sta.nds. I like to find a norm.al .guy. to da.te. I l.ove listening to m.usic, s.inging ka.raoke and doing load.s o.f other. cool stuff.. I. also like hanging out at coffee shops and .pubs. I like d.rinking beer.. Ask .me abou.t my. wild .trip to .Mexico.! Oh, d.id I men.ti.on I w.as VERY cu.te? But .don'.t. take. my wo.rd. .for it, contact m.e a.nd .let's arra.nge a fact to face. meeting a.lready! Just don't reply .directly to my message..... I using my friend. .a.cc.ount seeing tha.t .I'.m not a m.emb.er on this site or whatever... ;-.) Tell me what you .think .at my email., chrissymawer at y a h o.com. See you soon!