Sunday, September 25, 2011
Monday, December 28, 2009
quick the pirates are coming
the pirates the opirates swarm up from deeps
of sudden throat
one has three rows of teeth another
levitates from the mast foot hangs there over the ploughing ship
swells in a vicious solar flare exploding rains down
realigns at the poop then seastates forth big and menace
these pirates all of them in a wrack language
advance with cutlasses to where we are hollowed
heads out in our fearful caboozes
what is it with you pirates we ask
they shimmer then as though a startle had come across
we go with that
flinging turtle shells we rock-oxen swinge
the pirates in lurks there at the tabernacle they oyster out threats
we gather in like fry we eat up good all phosphorus and wave top
again the pirates have come up the thwarts
squidflooding their mouths at us
all the Last Day to come again in pink neptune arrays
you could bask in
reading wet books
till forever cracks
another
.
of sudden throat
one has three rows of teeth another
levitates from the mast foot hangs there over the ploughing ship
swells in a vicious solar flare exploding rains down
realigns at the poop then seastates forth big and menace
these pirates all of them in a wrack language
advance with cutlasses to where we are hollowed
heads out in our fearful caboozes
what is it with you pirates we ask
they shimmer then as though a startle had come across
we go with that
flinging turtle shells we rock-oxen swinge
the pirates in lurks there at the tabernacle they oyster out threats
we gather in like fry we eat up good all phosphorus and wave top
again the pirates have come up the thwarts
squidflooding their mouths at us
all the Last Day to come again in pink neptune arrays
you could bask in
reading wet books
till forever cracks
another
.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
black bird tongue
one of the kids is going feral
I saw him looking out the window
at a blackbird in the snow
his eyes stark yellow his tongue flicking
engaged and slow a week later he came in with a rabbit
in his mouth slicked it down blooming and bloody on the carpet
still jerking a little
look he says what I have brought to the table
I am concerned for his future as a politician
or town dignitary if the Press learn of this early deviance
this is how they start
then scales form behind the ears
next thing they sprout feathers
from the shoulders
and all is lost
I hope for some intervention from upon high
to save my son from the high winds
that have come so early upon him
there is still
(the air is still)
just....... time
.
I saw him looking out the window
at a blackbird in the snow
his eyes stark yellow his tongue flicking
engaged and slow a week later he came in with a rabbit
in his mouth slicked it down blooming and bloody on the carpet
still jerking a little
look he says what I have brought to the table
I am concerned for his future as a politician
or town dignitary if the Press learn of this early deviance
this is how they start
then scales form behind the ears
next thing they sprout feathers
from the shoulders
and all is lost
I hope for some intervention from upon high
to save my son from the high winds
that have come so early upon him
there is still
(the air is still)
just....... time
.
parachutists of the pink disaster
so I have a new hat
that's just not good enough to stop the world
FDR himself in Morocco said that a hat is only an abstraction
of sex
of therefore the dream of war
Stalin of course leaned right over and requested
a retranslation
what the fuck he said he said
does he mean it?
all the while my new hat Tzara fishattack buried
treasure as if the goats had gone crazy now
down by the river the hatmen leaning in
a certain stench that cries over the hills
Paulus wringing his hands in apology
like oh I didn't really mean it
sorry I have gone back to Stalingrad
where my love waits
with machine chocolate
is this the end
is this
the end?
.
that's just not good enough to stop the world
FDR himself in Morocco said that a hat is only an abstraction
of sex
of therefore the dream of war
Stalin of course leaned right over and requested
a retranslation
what the fuck he said he said
does he mean it?
all the while my new hat Tzara fishattack buried
treasure as if the goats had gone crazy now
down by the river the hatmen leaning in
a certain stench that cries over the hills
Paulus wringing his hands in apology
like oh I didn't really mean it
sorry I have gone back to Stalingrad
where my love waits
with machine chocolate
is this the end
is this
the end?
.
Stalingrad silent night
maybe it was at the tractor factory at Stalingrad
that humanity became enlightened
that the Buddha learned of the sniper art
my kids there in the rubble screamed along
with the Katyushas ran with the wild dogs
that came starving from the cellars
something broke there in the scream
some part of humanity looked out from the snow
and thought jigsaws might be an equally good way to go
into the night
sex was never an issue
it just flared like that like a dog had barked
or had failed to bark somewhere down by the stables
the presence of politicians is a corrupting taint within humanity
this is known
yesterday my heating went off
do you think I wept about it?
no I burnt what was available
starting with memory and working out
at the end of every forlorn meal in the underground
some new love begins
I mean you don't have to fuck your mother
just because she didn't like the chocolates
and you want to say you care
these are mistakes
like lying to children
telling them you are Batman
that you can fly more or less
you know sometime you will have to do it
better always to carry a few small sticks and find a bridge
this is what they were taught
in that old singsong tractor hymn
of Bing Crosby Stalingrad snowman walking
hey can you smell carrots?
nor women neither nor women
wolves from Ethiopia strangled in through tunnels
to a Palestine zoo
autosave failed
Christmas lifts over the rooftops like
.
that humanity became enlightened
that the Buddha learned of the sniper art
my kids there in the rubble screamed along
with the Katyushas ran with the wild dogs
that came starving from the cellars
something broke there in the scream
some part of humanity looked out from the snow
and thought jigsaws might be an equally good way to go
into the night
sex was never an issue
it just flared like that like a dog had barked
or had failed to bark somewhere down by the stables
the presence of politicians is a corrupting taint within humanity
this is known
yesterday my heating went off
do you think I wept about it?
no I burnt what was available
starting with memory and working out
at the end of every forlorn meal in the underground
some new love begins
I mean you don't have to fuck your mother
just because she didn't like the chocolates
and you want to say you care
these are mistakes
like lying to children
telling them you are Batman
that you can fly more or less
you know sometime you will have to do it
better always to carry a few small sticks and find a bridge
this is what they were taught
in that old singsong tractor hymn
of Bing Crosby Stalingrad snowman walking
hey can you smell carrots?
nor women neither nor women
wolves from Ethiopia strangled in through tunnels
to a Palestine zoo
autosave failed
Christmas lifts over the rooftops like
.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
moments in the spirit room
around about midnight
the ghosts start to bite
on the stair
there
a walking chair
now the electricity starts up
in this room alone
the time zone
collapses
logic lapses
I am thrown
into
spirit world I try hard
to keep my head up
but how do you explain
someone knocking on my door just now
so it thundered so it wept into the vast openings
of night yawing like bullets through flesh
yes of course I opened it
of course no one was there
all around that unseen clamour
.
the ghosts start to bite
on the stair
there
a walking chair
now the electricity starts up
in this room alone
the time zone
collapses
logic lapses
I am thrown
into
spirit world I try hard
to keep my head up
but how do you explain
someone knocking on my door just now
so it thundered so it wept into the vast openings
of night yawing like bullets through flesh
yes of course I opened it
of course no one was there
all around that unseen clamour
.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Le Dormeur du Val -- a translation of Rimbaud
it is a hole of greenery where a river sings
hanging madly to grasses
tatters of money
where sun of the mountain shone
it is a small valley which foams of rays a young soldier stop
open naked head and the nape
bathes in cool blue cresses
sleep it is wide in grass under the naked one
pale in its green bed where the light rains the feet
in the gladeoli it sleeps smiling
as would smile a sick child
it makes a nap Nature
rocks it warmly: it is cold
the perfumes do not make any more shiver
its nostril it sleeps in the sun
the hand on its tranquille chest
two red holes on the right
hanging madly to grasses
tatters of money
where sun of the mountain shone
it is a small valley which foams of rays a young soldier stop
open naked head and the nape
bathes in cool blue cresses
sleep it is wide in grass under the naked one
pale in its green bed where the light rains the feet
in the gladeoli it sleeps smiling
as would smile a sick child
it makes a nap Nature
rocks it warmly: it is cold
the perfumes do not make any more shiver
its nostril it sleeps in the sun
the hand on its tranquille chest
two red holes on the right
passing strange food mouth to mouth
being in love no—not that the wind
doesn't still when you step outside
(someone has their hands over your mouth
in your mouth around your head someone
holds you as you fade)
like you were broken into saccades
like they had sliced up your senses
the trees harbour dark things
the night is a wild white train driving
into its own abdomen
—digital craqelure shatters above
rains down glass and ice
see here is your face your thousand faces
in the rain memory wake here at nightfall
where the hares dance dusk dawn grasp
with tiny hands we come running again
to your arms hold me hold me unbreathing
in the shallow brown water
below us shapes flick
not so in love that you wouldn't know it
nor so we fade as the barking of dogs
over forest rides love is a mouthful
of pine needles the feel of a wet pelt
the stench of the other
—blood in the snow
hold me there beneath the snow
until the choirs have passed by
—again at dawn the thing on the bedhead watches
every day now it grows more vivid
soon it will speak
in the empty house
that no one will approach
.
doesn't still when you step outside
(someone has their hands over your mouth
in your mouth around your head someone
holds you as you fade)
like you were broken into saccades
like they had sliced up your senses
the trees harbour dark things
the night is a wild white train driving
into its own abdomen
—digital craqelure shatters above
rains down glass and ice
see here is your face your thousand faces
in the rain memory wake here at nightfall
where the hares dance dusk dawn grasp
with tiny hands we come running again
to your arms hold me hold me unbreathing
in the shallow brown water
below us shapes flick
not so in love that you wouldn't know it
nor so we fade as the barking of dogs
over forest rides love is a mouthful
of pine needles the feel of a wet pelt
the stench of the other
—blood in the snow
hold me there beneath the snow
until the choirs have passed by
—again at dawn the thing on the bedhead watches
every day now it grows more vivid
soon it will speak
in the empty house
that no one will approach
.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Lilith - An Anthology of Women's Poetry
Is now available here: click this link
I'm plugging this book partly because some of my friends are involved in it, and partly because there's some excellent poetry in there. Highly recommended.
I'm plugging this book partly because some of my friends are involved in it, and partly because there's some excellent poetry in there. Highly recommended.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
otherself-medication
goblin who is not my enemy
goblin who looms at my edges
waiting for sunlight
to tug at the curtains
to run out
clasp at my heel
not enemy not saboteur
nor the unkind words of loved ones
mist that hangs
in air
after spasm stillness
footprints
in wet grass
who is neither loved
nor unloved
who waits
for a succession of moments
that come to nothing
swirl of your dust
your sadness, your trying-again
you who are not entirely my enemy
even now
withdraw my medication
I watch from some distance
that all things of the body
are sort of holy
sort of terrible
faintly irresistible,
compulsion itself
just the shadow
into which words fall
when voice stops
in this world
moves elsewhere
please don't burn so hard so fast
for the smoke offends my fucking eyes also of my friends here
at the next table
O I must have words
with you in your dart of sunlight
goblin of my heart
my own wordless night
here we are beyond recall rolling rolling
she pounds the table (who pounds the...?):
1. Remember this time damn it the waves,
the count the clock all of it remember she says remember...
2. this croupier no one you ever knew just a door banging in a wind
a hand reaching for you so much as start to breathe ugly how you do
beyond recall:
goblin of my spinning
flame in the day
goblin hands that reach to catch
hands that pull away
goblin of the heart's engulfing
roll the old yellow dice
goblin who looms at my edges
waiting for sunlight
to tug at the curtains
to run out
clasp at my heel
not enemy not saboteur
nor the unkind words of loved ones
mist that hangs
in air
after spasm stillness
footprints
in wet grass
who is neither loved
nor unloved
who waits
for a succession of moments
that come to nothing
swirl of your dust
your sadness, your trying-again
you who are not entirely my enemy
even now
withdraw my medication
I watch from some distance
that all things of the body
are sort of holy
sort of terrible
faintly irresistible,
compulsion itself
just the shadow
into which words fall
when voice stops
in this world
moves elsewhere
please don't burn so hard so fast
for the smoke offends my fucking eyes also of my friends here
at the next table
O I must have words
with you in your dart of sunlight
goblin of my heart
my own wordless night
here we are beyond recall rolling rolling
she pounds the table (who pounds the...?):
1. Remember this time damn it the waves,
the count the clock all of it remember she says remember...
2. this croupier no one you ever knew just a door banging in a wind
a hand reaching for you so much as start to breathe ugly how you do
beyond recall:
goblin of my spinning
flame in the day
goblin hands that reach to catch
hands that pull away
goblin of the heart's engulfing
roll the old yellow dice
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
an arch planchette
of the genealogy of long argument written
from the inside with a planchette or something
(one must assume the most common shape)
try to avoid being swept into eddies
he took some blood from me—I hate that
(his staff are not very polite)
I was shy at that time of my life
with the very concept of pollution
influential people/the law...
he might try learning some manners
like almost every pollutant
I'm worried about public relations
to some extent large or small
always a natural background
he tested my urine
—that can show quite a lot of things
many wrecks were lost simply because
of a strong tidal stream
you're too young he said
maybe you'll get it later
the tests are very curious
.
from the inside with a planchette or something
(one must assume the most common shape)
try to avoid being swept into eddies
he took some blood from me—I hate that
(his staff are not very polite)
I was shy at that time of my life
with the very concept of pollution
influential people/the law...
he might try learning some manners
like almost every pollutant
I'm worried about public relations
to some extent large or small
always a natural background
he tested my urine
—that can show quite a lot of things
many wrecks were lost simply because
of a strong tidal stream
you're too young he said
maybe you'll get it later
the tests are very curious
.
life without the civilising intervention of regular oral sex
uh i don't want the earth to keep on
in its track no i don't want santa to come no more
nor no fairies to squat by the river
singing low plaints to the love of children
no i want it all to break and fail
all women to rush suddenly from their bloodbeds
intent upon burning something
all men to lift hammers and crush their own fingers
one by one in their workshops
then retire to nearby hostelries with straws
to contemplate with bloody women
the next act of clarity
(air in the bells. lake-voices at ring in the noonfish church.)
.
in its track no i don't want santa to come no more
nor no fairies to squat by the river
singing low plaints to the love of children
no i want it all to break and fail
all women to rush suddenly from their bloodbeds
intent upon burning something
all men to lift hammers and crush their own fingers
one by one in their workshops
then retire to nearby hostelries with straws
to contemplate with bloody women
the next act of clarity
(air in the bells. lake-voices at ring in the noonfish church.)
.
Monday, December 07, 2009
language acquisition device
she's never kissed me in any way that made sense
she turned her head slightly
looked out at the starlings in the rain
turned back like this
avidly read about starlets
from the newspaper
that was scattered on the floor like huge wet leaves flopped there
in a fucking flop crisis
in the night, though, starlings she looked
owls she looked also
many seafaring midnights of birds she looked
catafalques and stoops as though of doom yea she looked
me all so passionate but had to entwined look
so I too
yeah there they were, both of them dying
in front of the gas fire
hey hey what's going on he wakes now thinking like a hen on fire
don't be ridiculous
why you sit in trees with starling rain rain idiot
night of the stretches the trenches the facial
twigs tendrils cobwebs mycelia of the dream nothing
Buddha god moonlight of limbs what you want to take me
out
out
there where the moon bounces
no yet again I am not invited
to my own funeral
baltic sea 1955 wtf cold as angels mmm...
.
she turned her head slightly
looked out at the starlings in the rain
turned back like this
avidly read about starlets
from the newspaper
that was scattered on the floor like huge wet leaves flopped there
in a fucking flop crisis
in the night, though, starlings she looked
owls she looked also
many seafaring midnights of birds she looked
catafalques and stoops as though of doom yea she looked
me all so passionate but had to entwined look
so I too
yeah there they were, both of them dying
in front of the gas fire
hey hey what's going on he wakes now thinking like a hen on fire
don't be ridiculous
why you sit in trees with starling rain rain idiot
night of the stretches the trenches the facial
twigs tendrils cobwebs mycelia of the dream nothing
Buddha god moonlight of limbs what you want to take me
out
out
there where the moon bounces
no yet again I am not invited
to my own funeral
baltic sea 1955 wtf cold as angels mmm...
.
voice of violet war
put here your illegal ear
to the crystal set
his wartime voice of the hollows calls
Danzig—the Finland Station—Archangel
from tractors in rubble London calling
now war is enigma coding nickel from The Finns/oil from Ploesti
........morsing out Ultra .... .- -.. -. --- - - .... --- ..- --. .... -
- .... .- - -.. . .- - .... .... .- -.. ..- -. -.. --- -. . ... --- -- .- -. -.--
London crawling into its own rats unreal the voice of paper night
sirens of Goering's drub... violet descent all stations all stations
......................rat voices from the thin megaphone
flow down into an organ stench at Saint Pancras & the King's Cross
all-atlantic emergency from Hut 5 Hut 6 (unknown)
the fog signals fly in
Wetter setzt Messe. Das ist die glückliche Zeit.
Alaska nach Liverpool. Das ist die glückliche Zeit!
(into the cold alive moment frozen in the warm moment
all stopped held tight the thin voice
.................................the moment)
...................in den kalten lebendigen moment
...................eingefroren im warmen moment
- .. .-.. .-.. .... ..- -- .- -. ...- --- .. -.-. . ...
.-- .- -.- . ..- ... .- -. -.. .-- . -.. .-. --- .-- -.
let us go then you and I
Queen Mary ship of dreams
solve et coagula cathedral in the smoke
report fire here light and not light and light there look
every light in its own water
so many of us just quietly borne away
little lights at sea
............................our tiny Darwins all gone out
finched alive in fire and squeak
.
to the crystal set
his wartime voice of the hollows calls
Danzig—the Finland Station—Archangel
from tractors in rubble London calling
now war is enigma coding nickel from The Finns/oil from Ploesti
........morsing out Ultra .... .- -.. -. --- - - .... --- ..- --. .... -
- .... .- - -.. . .- - .... .... .- -.. ..- -. -.. --- -. . ... --- -- .- -. -.--
London crawling into its own rats unreal the voice of paper night
sirens of Goering's drub... violet descent all stations all stations
......................rat voices from the thin megaphone
flow down into an organ stench at Saint Pancras & the King's Cross
all-atlantic emergency from Hut 5 Hut 6 (unknown)
the fog signals fly in
Wetter setzt Messe. Das ist die glückliche Zeit.
Alaska nach Liverpool. Das ist die glückliche Zeit!
(into the cold alive moment frozen in the warm moment
all stopped held tight the thin voice
.................................the moment)
...................in den kalten lebendigen moment
...................eingefroren im warmen moment
- .. .-.. .-.. .... ..- -- .- -. ...- --- .. -.-. . ...
.-- .- -.- . ..- ... .- -. -.. .-- . -.. .-. --- .-- -.
let us go then you and I
Queen Mary ship of dreams
solve et coagula cathedral in the smoke
report fire here light and not light and light there look
every light in its own water
so many of us just quietly borne away
little lights at sea
............................our tiny Darwins all gone out
finched alive in fire and squeak
.
Sunday, December 06, 2009
fissures of men
><((((º>`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸.·´¯`·...¸><((((º>¸.
·´¯`·.¸. , . .·´¯`·.. ><((((º>`·.¸¸.·´¯`·.¸.·´¯`·...¸><((((º>
skyeater
Sky TV is amazing just a couple of months
and you know almost everything there is to know
for instance did you know that everyone was a cannibal?
no, see, but it's true, those Neanderthals you thought
ate grass and sang river songs petting each other
with big stupid placid grins like bovines no
they were all munching each others haunches
every chance they got you couldn't go to sleep back then
and hope to wake up with limbs crikey no that's why
they died out from sheer tiredness of having always
to stay awake and watch one's extremities and the Anasazi
that you thought spent their days tending gardens
and inventing games with corncobs in fact they had
a special delight in internal organs and bone marrow
of their neighbours and relatives even it turns out
Jesus when they discovered his grave—dude got half a child
sticking out his dead mouth seems he died from biting
off more than he could chew all holy guys get it the same way
either chugging on cock so hard they forget to breathe
or like Mohammed choked on a burger made of the brains
of a Jew neighbour he caught frying up his wife............yeah I guess
without Sky you know nothing all of you don't even see
the slavering nightmare that creeps upon you
even as we squeak now me I got myself prepared and oiled ready
for to offer myself spatchcocked whole to the history channel
.
and you know almost everything there is to know
for instance did you know that everyone was a cannibal?
no, see, but it's true, those Neanderthals you thought
ate grass and sang river songs petting each other
with big stupid placid grins like bovines no
they were all munching each others haunches
every chance they got you couldn't go to sleep back then
and hope to wake up with limbs crikey no that's why
they died out from sheer tiredness of having always
to stay awake and watch one's extremities and the Anasazi
that you thought spent their days tending gardens
and inventing games with corncobs in fact they had
a special delight in internal organs and bone marrow
of their neighbours and relatives even it turns out
Jesus when they discovered his grave—dude got half a child
sticking out his dead mouth seems he died from biting
off more than he could chew all holy guys get it the same way
either chugging on cock so hard they forget to breathe
or like Mohammed choked on a burger made of the brains
of a Jew neighbour he caught frying up his wife............yeah I guess
without Sky you know nothing all of you don't even see
the slavering nightmare that creeps upon you
even as we squeak now me I got myself prepared and oiled ready
for to offer myself spatchcocked whole to the history channel
.
Saturday, December 05, 2009
dark upon the faery flow
late afternoon and the sun
in September
a window
up a shadow ladder
you'd never guess
in an apple orchard
everything gleaming
almost in love
somewhere there in the leaves
in the trees the sunlight
a door a ladder what
fairies everywhere
in transposition
all of a sudden all of a hold
fireside no I mean yes
look at this then how
the light leans in low
almost they tread upon my boots
as leaves mythic really they seem gleaming
each a little waterfall of dark light
something like light
something like it
light
ready for the off
.
in September
a window
up a shadow ladder
you'd never guess
in an apple orchard
everything gleaming
almost in love
somewhere there in the leaves
in the trees the sunlight
a door a ladder what
fairies everywhere
in transposition
all of a sudden all of a hold
fireside no I mean yes
look at this then how
the light leans in low
almost they tread upon my boots
as leaves mythic really they seem gleaming
each a little waterfall of dark light
something like light
something like it
light
ready for the off
.
sunny down south
member A from
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how long would this
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remember that you can always
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has sent
and you have requested
that you be notified
of this event
the content of this message is
no I don't
how long would this
don't most of
well you started it
you can view
your new message
remember that you can always
choose not to be
notified
this message was
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hurt chords by J
search the web, Bing
he wants to be John and June
Klondike 1932 they came running like like
rotten fruit drip from the mouth
was sex politics back then in the etherised
shamericas of youth I mean it though
that shameless familiarity with skirts
the certainty the utter clockwise
i hurt myself today to see
here nothing here nothing here whirling girls
she was on the streets at 7 years old wauling
les ombres de la rue
little slut you should have guillotined her mother way before
as if table upon said in more
now look again upon the clock
facial tictactoe facial cumshot
all of us dripping in our even bukkake
no one laughs in this custard pie event
even the clock/cock shuts
(wrong twice a day imagine there in the carking shrubbery a strange face peered out its yellow vibe through long, long leaves)
air in the bells. lake-voices at ring in the noonfish church
.
he wants to be John and June
Klondike 1932 they came running like like
rotten fruit drip from the mouth
was sex politics back then in the etherised
shamericas of youth I mean it though
that shameless familiarity with skirts
the certainty the utter clockwise
i hurt myself today to see
here nothing here nothing here whirling girls
she was on the streets at 7 years old wauling
les ombres de la rue
little slut you should have guillotined her mother way before
as if table upon said in more
now look again upon the clock
facial tictactoe facial cumshot
all of us dripping in our even bukkake
no one laughs in this custard pie event
even the clock/cock shuts
(wrong twice a day imagine there in the carking shrubbery a strange face peered out its yellow vibe through long, long leaves)
air in the bells. lake-voices at ring in the noonfish church
.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
in even avenues of love
(this takes only a moment
but gives you increased capabilities)
if the grain is kept straight
.............................and held so
with conviction and compass
then the mere will allow
that across to the felds a wife
....................or what or wifwhat
eek from afar as though even song
through water................was sprung
imagine more then than a water wife
who bounds o'er dark floods
her entire head now bubbled & hove to
the variance of a new North
upholded there in such sea hills
staymates and thwarts
(press this button once only)
the attack the attack
..............................least of all
in the smallest things O some new chaos
.......................rupt the night
in which we look
Oh therein his earnest helm and heck
as though there were no none of it
ugh yes no nonce of the word of it
....................................no eating of it
"no longer any mouth to put it in"
pshaw! now nothing is to be done
07762 888118
anyone with the answer
please call before morning
.
but gives you increased capabilities)
if the grain is kept straight
.............................and held so
with conviction and compass
then the mere will allow
that across to the felds a wife
....................or what or wifwhat
eek from afar as though even song
through water................was sprung
imagine more then than a water wife
who bounds o'er dark floods
her entire head now bubbled & hove to
the variance of a new North
upholded there in such sea hills
staymates and thwarts
(press this button once only)
the attack the attack
..............................least of all
in the smallest things O some new chaos
.......................rupt the night
in which we look
Oh therein his earnest helm and heck
as though there were no none of it
ugh yes no nonce of the word of it
....................................no eating of it
"no longer any mouth to put it in"
pshaw! now nothing is to be done
07762 888118
anyone with the answer
please call before morning
.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Lights fall from the Old Man of the Sea (a wrestling poem for Rus Bowden)
we hold until I am exhausted
he is a trickling thing of sand
a scintilla that drains back into the beach
a shock of trees
released by strong winds
he is a fish, a slither
an eel that flits away
then has me pinned
he is all around me
he clenches, shoves my face
towards his
buried down there
beneath our grinding feet
iron-eyed our faces
stare it out underground
through lock and tremor
we are two seismic prayers
to a god divided
he is a lion he is my mother he is the flicker of songbirds falling
as black snow in early evening my fingers are wings are poems
within his smoke we fold back to embrace
count five sudden things of magic
stamp and hold tight
lion mother phantom
my lost brother
whistles hard in the waves
old father in the fallen leaves offshore
we walk into the sea
each carrying the other
light as children who cannot return
rise only as the tide
sends up her drowned lanterns
each with his heart of red sand
catching, holding
our breath beyond reach
.
he is a trickling thing of sand
a scintilla that drains back into the beach
a shock of trees
released by strong winds
he is a fish, a slither
an eel that flits away
then has me pinned
he is all around me
he clenches, shoves my face
towards his
buried down there
beneath our grinding feet
iron-eyed our faces
stare it out underground
through lock and tremor
we are two seismic prayers
to a god divided
he is a lion he is my mother he is the flicker of songbirds falling
as black snow in early evening my fingers are wings are poems
within his smoke we fold back to embrace
count five sudden things of magic
stamp and hold tight
lion mother phantom
my lost brother
whistles hard in the waves
old father in the fallen leaves offshore
we walk into the sea
each carrying the other
light as children who cannot return
rise only as the tide
sends up her drowned lanterns
each with his heart of red sand
catching, holding
our breath beyond reach
.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
ICHTHYOLATRY
now I feel like someone
shoved a huge fish into my throat
if you look into my gaping mouth
you can just make out
its pucker just see the glint
of its eyes back there
a monstrous glottal stop
I look out it looks out
those are my eyes too
in there my eyes its eyes
mouth in mouth it wriggles
it freaks I am in the stink of it
all down my oesophagal culverts
its tail flaps from my cloaca
visible even within new trousers
cut for concealment
I now waddle with its cold
between my outer legs
maybe I was always a bit fishy
but this, this, O my people
is something new
.
shoved a huge fish into my throat
if you look into my gaping mouth
you can just make out
its pucker just see the glint
of its eyes back there
a monstrous glottal stop
I look out it looks out
those are my eyes too
in there my eyes its eyes
mouth in mouth it wriggles
it freaks I am in the stink of it
all down my oesophagal culverts
its tail flaps from my cloaca
visible even within new trousers
cut for concealment
I now waddle with its cold
between my outer legs
maybe I was always a bit fishy
but this, this, O my people
is something new
.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
a moth in your mouth a moth oh good god
on the way home from the pub
a guy accosts me
in a alley
a dirty high hat
breathing it up like an alpaca
or some other stern beast
think you are a poet he says
I am going to kill you poet fuck
tell me how the night sky
add up to nothing how the wind
blow everyone apart
tell me biggest secret
you know
thinks you are so special you
stick a gun cold in my eye
tell me tell me or quickly die
I can't help think
this is the great moment
the whole dirty history of poetry
I have the answer ready
always same answer
ooze from everyone's belly
silence beyond everything
for its expression
I got nothing I say
I am just go home in a cold and stiff wind
please don't harm me
or I will herewith uncoil and eat at your whole fucking head
for I am already known as the gravedigger
even amongst the merest flowers
of evil at which he smiles and becomes now my friend
hand in hand we beguile the night
around us buildings collapse softly
we squat together eat butterflies
that druggle in the mouth
both of us glint
like Autumn storms coming in
leaked low & let loose
.
a guy accosts me
in a alley
a dirty high hat
breathing it up like an alpaca
or some other stern beast
think you are a poet he says
I am going to kill you poet fuck
tell me how the night sky
add up to nothing how the wind
blow everyone apart
tell me biggest secret
you know
thinks you are so special you
stick a gun cold in my eye
tell me tell me or quickly die
I can't help think
this is the great moment
the whole dirty history of poetry
I have the answer ready
always same answer
ooze from everyone's belly
silence beyond everything
for its expression
I got nothing I say
I am just go home in a cold and stiff wind
please don't harm me
or I will herewith uncoil and eat at your whole fucking head
for I am already known as the gravedigger
even amongst the merest flowers
of evil at which he smiles and becomes now my friend
hand in hand we beguile the night
around us buildings collapse softly
we squat together eat butterflies
that druggle in the mouth
both of us glint
like Autumn storms coming in
leaked low & let loose
.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
cows of a the causeway 2
she comes in from the rain
says hey what’s for dinner
says hey..........I'm thinking
of having sex with him next door
at weekends just a sort of arrangement
I haven't told him yet
thought I'd slip it past you first
..................sure he says
he likes you &
his wife would watch
if there was nothing on TV
while we're at it I should tell you
I have a similar deal
....................with your Dad
sometimes your Mother watches
not always sometimes she turns
away............... to gaze at the wall
that writhes with damp and cold
tides of old wallpaper windows
of seaglass ghosts and head-high nettles
..............................the drowning of children
sudden outside voices now stilled O
I dream about such walls as that
..................don't you?
yeah oh yeah she says she slides closer
he feels her moving around inside
but can think of nothing to say
................................—to sum it up neatly:
outside in the garden a gale
whips the washing line
into wild skipping rope cycles
that rip at the long unmown grass
ghost children spring up
beating time.............. into stars
everything is unkempt and ugly
for a few seconds
he bursts over himself
laughs a little awkwardly
shrugs it off
smooths himself
back into place
his face a blue skull
he steps he dances the slow starfish
he veers
aloud to her incoming
rock-and-roll-radio
.
says hey what’s for dinner
says hey..........I'm thinking
of having sex with him next door
at weekends just a sort of arrangement
I haven't told him yet
thought I'd slip it past you first
..................sure he says
he likes you &
his wife would watch
if there was nothing on TV
while we're at it I should tell you
I have a similar deal
....................with your Dad
sometimes your Mother watches
not always sometimes she turns
away............... to gaze at the wall
that writhes with damp and cold
tides of old wallpaper windows
of seaglass ghosts and head-high nettles
..............................the drowning of children
sudden outside voices now stilled O
I dream about such walls as that
..................don't you?
yeah oh yeah she says she slides closer
he feels her moving around inside
but can think of nothing to say
................................—to sum it up neatly:
outside in the garden a gale
whips the washing line
into wild skipping rope cycles
that rip at the long unmown grass
ghost children spring up
beating time.............. into stars
everything is unkempt and ugly
for a few seconds
he bursts over himself
laughs a little awkwardly
shrugs it off
smooths himself
back into place
his face a blue skull
he steps he dances the slow starfish
he veers
aloud to her incoming
rock-and-roll-radio
.
Friday, October 16, 2009
tea coal (self mortrait at dawn after delayed flight)
I sat up all night smoking looking
into some distance as though awful faces
there in the night looked back I wonder
sometimes if I will smoke until
it dries me up like an old timber stood
derelict above the tideline desolate
until I am well enough of myself
desiccated in my own salt and voice
just a thing that looks out
from a pile of frass
feeling for myself in stutters of radio
—it is at these times
that I am at my most inhuman as though
I might rush out and engage
in some act
motivated entirely by silence
by something there in the mist
which I do not even feel
sometimes this is an elevating thing
that makes me climb rooftops in darkness
an animal wired to the night
in that arching pilot rictus
it is in pain that I appear most real
watch the needle
I look to find myself there
in the scattered leaves of late October
look here it is already in the coming repetition
of late hunt it down
for this is an interactive animal
barely brushed by late winds
folded in like a baby that sucks
its own shadow
knowing no other mother to clutch
the sensation is that of a cold moss that seeps
behind the face somewhere
in the olfactory wall the haunted cavities
of pre-language it runs down
through the thoracic circle the abdomen
with its distant cries and heave
it eddies and corrupts in the genitals
settles finally as a dying reptile
in the ossified knee joints
stifled and unspeaking
its tiny mouth stuffed with mothers
stretched in death's happy alarm
over and forgotten
snuff
but feel free to add
your little fucking soft
afterdark breath in your ear
handsliding alerts
& be aware that you dance with the dead people
you are in the presence
of the dead
the sexy dead people
for one night only O
the blinding lights are blowing below
.
into some distance as though awful faces
there in the night looked back I wonder
sometimes if I will smoke until
it dries me up like an old timber stood
derelict above the tideline desolate
until I am well enough of myself
desiccated in my own salt and voice
just a thing that looks out
from a pile of frass
feeling for myself in stutters of radio
—it is at these times
that I am at my most inhuman as though
I might rush out and engage
in some act
motivated entirely by silence
by something there in the mist
which I do not even feel
sometimes this is an elevating thing
that makes me climb rooftops in darkness
an animal wired to the night
in that arching pilot rictus
it is in pain that I appear most real
watch the needle
I look to find myself there
in the scattered leaves of late October
look here it is already in the coming repetition
of late hunt it down
for this is an interactive animal
barely brushed by late winds
folded in like a baby that sucks
its own shadow
knowing no other mother to clutch
the sensation is that of a cold moss that seeps
behind the face somewhere
in the olfactory wall the haunted cavities
of pre-language it runs down
through the thoracic circle the abdomen
with its distant cries and heave
it eddies and corrupts in the genitals
settles finally as a dying reptile
in the ossified knee joints
stifled and unspeaking
its tiny mouth stuffed with mothers
stretched in death's happy alarm
over and forgotten
snuff
but feel free to add
your little fucking soft
afterdark breath in your ear
handsliding alerts
& be aware that you dance with the dead people
you are in the presence
of the dead
the sexy dead people
for one night only O
the blinding lights are blowing below
.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Friday, October 09, 2009
this vanishing act runs dry
around of midday I arrives at your house
I don't says much
but swans around there in your backyard
all the while fixes you with wild faces
like a goat
suddenly released into a cinema
couldn't find its way out
got angry sat up on stage glaring out at the crowd
like the devil its elf
bleching out fury
Casablanca running like the sea
white and black
across its hairy toggenberg face
O beard of the prophet now sweep down
this could be the beginning of a uh beautiful elation
"such people we saw the like of there
such glory and fineness walking"
yes oh yes we on Sunday visited him
we found him much diminished
in both cognition and physical ability
you have no idea what's happening now
you, I say, you
I stuff your letterbox with petroleum jelly
I will dance hoofing like a wild buffalo on your car
on your doormat you find
an offer of marriage
a broken balloon
but what care I for your goosefeather bed?
oh if only these words
had fallen suddenly like dead sparrows in China
into ponds all over town
.
I don't says much
but swans around there in your backyard
all the while fixes you with wild faces
like a goat
suddenly released into a cinema
couldn't find its way out
got angry sat up on stage glaring out at the crowd
like the devil its elf
bleching out fury
Casablanca running like the sea
white and black
across its hairy toggenberg face
O beard of the prophet now sweep down
this could be the beginning of a uh beautiful elation
"such people we saw the like of there
such glory and fineness walking"
yes oh yes we on Sunday visited him
we found him much diminished
in both cognition and physical ability
you have no idea what's happening now
you, I say, you
I stuff your letterbox with petroleum jelly
I will dance hoofing like a wild buffalo on your car
on your doormat you find
an offer of marriage
a broken balloon
but what care I for your goosefeather bed?
oh if only these words
had fallen suddenly like dead sparrows in China
into ponds all over town
.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
teaching a boy /θ/ to enunciate
(the boy with the blue hat under the wailing-tree
finds himself in a wasp world maddeningly abuzz
swirls of dental fricatives hold him electrically crucified
shimmering above the plain
he has therefore no meaning and must withdraw quickly
for into such confusion we sashay like vampires
stopping camp upon the half stair half turned insistent
that this is the music such children made
of what the night
Bela Belial undone teaching the unboy to enunciate peripheral
phonemes of the edges of the mythos grosso I wanted
to hack my way through dream conquistadores
drift upon high the philosopher's tone
the alkahest)
all of it out of reach drowned in articles
in dense green capillary the delta swoon
silver guitar amazon pirarucu sucking in prey
it has teeth everywhere grinding teeth
it has no language
the trees now deep in black water it waits
in the roots always wakeful
the thing
black as water lapping
waiting always
any real poem should come up close
breathe hard in your face
threaten
to murder your family
after that it's as if a boat was cut loose
by drunken strangers at midnight
crashing in your dreams
tomorrow and
.
finds himself in a wasp world maddeningly abuzz
swirls of dental fricatives hold him electrically crucified
shimmering above the plain
he has therefore no meaning and must withdraw quickly
for into such confusion we sashay like vampires
stopping camp upon the half stair half turned insistent
that this is the music such children made
of what the night
Bela Belial undone teaching the unboy to enunciate peripheral
phonemes of the edges of the mythos grosso I wanted
to hack my way through dream conquistadores
drift upon high the philosopher's tone
the alkahest)
all of it out of reach drowned in articles
in dense green capillary the delta swoon
silver guitar amazon pirarucu sucking in prey
it has teeth everywhere grinding teeth
it has no language
the trees now deep in black water it waits
in the roots always wakeful
the thing
black as water lapping
waiting always
any real poem should come up close
breathe hard in your face
threaten
to murder your family
after that it's as if a boat was cut loose
by drunken strangers at midnight
crashing in your dreams
tomorrow and
.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Sunday, October 04, 2009
have you even any idea?
and what if a young boy just had enough
6 years old he saw a TV thing
that said this is the age of the self
your parents no longer feel a sense of duty
he quite reasonably buys the hour
of the hoot as the dawnwash
elevated he flows let me O god let me
garrotte this hollow
that in his hollow he dives
straight through into the schwa between
where the rats
such a thing such a thing
such a thin and awful thing
hi he says I'm new here
to a piratical fetch on a drippage
both of them squat where
watches below the slow
point he gets that he is the Buddha
he sees that work below him
flowers and new bread emanate
he p[onders] becomes intoxicated
he jumps
he enters the swim
years later
he wakes still there poised
what then he asks
what now
what
he curls back in
understanding the impossibility of everything
I will eat bananas then he says
I will eat biscuits
and gaze from on high
waving my uncut wand
playing with it gently
waxing it up
or I will slough gently into it all
either way
I think my cock just dropped off
anyway
maybe it's time to start
a riotous religion of reeling rats
all of whom now fall to their feet
Christ only knows
where they were before
this acrobatic stuff
aeroscape nude encounter
now you endless (I don't mean
just don't even bask
for again I'm fucked out with the full flood
squawks of
little miss skygod
hacking (to be honeytoed) all night
christ no
moresongs of love i hate love now just like you
me washing in on
the stupid blue beach
a big bird eye watching
over
repeat after me
such anthems of
stark /sorrow/ treelines
snow has gone bad
he wakes again with his gun
to the Buddha's head
everone in the building has a hardon
to see what come next
things slide now
into the cage
the Terror and not the Terror
"offer yourself to him" -- Withnail and I
.
6 years old he saw a TV thing
that said this is the age of the self
your parents no longer feel a sense of duty
he quite reasonably buys the hour
of the hoot as the dawnwash
elevated he flows let me O god let me
garrotte this hollow
that in his hollow he dives
straight through into the schwa between
where the rats
such a thing such a thing
such a thin and awful thing
hi he says I'm new here
to a piratical fetch on a drippage
both of them squat where
watches below the slow
point he gets that he is the Buddha
he sees that work below him
flowers and new bread emanate
he p[onders] becomes intoxicated
he jumps
he enters the swim
years later
he wakes still there poised
what then he asks
what now
what
he curls back in
understanding the impossibility of everything
I will eat bananas then he says
I will eat biscuits
and gaze from on high
waving my uncut wand
playing with it gently
waxing it up
or I will slough gently into it all
either way
I think my cock just dropped off
anyway
maybe it's time to start
a riotous religion of reeling rats
all of whom now fall to their feet
Christ only knows
where they were before
this acrobatic stuff
aeroscape nude encounter
now you endless (I don't mean
just don't even bask
for again I'm fucked out with the full flood
squawks of
little miss skygod
hacking (to be honeytoed) all night
christ no
moresongs of love i hate love now just like you
me washing in on
the stupid blue beach
a big bird eye watching
over
repeat after me
such anthems of
stark /sorrow/ treelines
snow has gone bad
he wakes again with his gun
to the Buddha's head
everone in the building has a hardon
to see what come next
things slide now
into the cage
the Terror and not the Terror
"offer yourself to him" -- Withnail and I
.
fucking a ship in a bottle of world peace
so he is just washing his dick
and gets to concentrating on that little hole
through which it looks out
and sprays the world
and he digs into it just to see
like what's down there
he keeps going
are there animals maybe
a shrieking jungle thing of genital interior
caverns of bloody white crystal
in he goes digging they find him later
head down stuck airtight in his own hole
feet quivering up in the air
asphyxiated
nothing
.
and gets to concentrating on that little hole
through which it looks out
and sprays the world
and he digs into it just to see
like what's down there
he keeps going
are there animals maybe
a shrieking jungle thing of genital interior
caverns of bloody white crystal
in he goes digging they find him later
head down stuck airtight in his own hole
feet quivering up in the air
asphyxiated
nothing
.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
the night's travel
in and now out the same door
like all knives whirling
our utter politics in collisions
of limestone pavements
across all this she travailed
with sepia sandbags
of County Clare
all sailroads to traverse
and only 8 O-clock
by the whale's chime
this big hand by the night's wild travel
points to 12
the little hand
flickers and stops
iris of heart attack hope
—love of small things
and wild places
be certain now be sure
it's that time
in between
where the hands don't count
it's okay to be scared here
to lie down and breathe
to lie a little
before waking
.
like all knives whirling
our utter politics in collisions
of limestone pavements
across all this she travailed
with sepia sandbags
of County Clare
all sailroads to traverse
and only 8 O-clock
by the whale's chime
this big hand by the night's wild travel
points to 12
the little hand
flickers and stops
iris of heart attack hope
—love of small things
and wild places
be certain now be sure
it's that time
in between
where the hands don't count
it's okay to be scared here
to lie down and breathe
to lie a little
before waking
.
Friday, September 25, 2009
tout n'est pas pour le meilleur dans le meilleur mince de tous les au-delàs impossibles
Burroughs & Gysin
The Perkl Light energy spa
Realdoll sex dolls
The Rapture Index
Animal Trials
Buddy Christ
VietnamNet article.
Bastards of The Party
Lynch Law Investigation
The ZEB Device
Sybian & Venus
The Grim Reaper
"The most moral army in the world"
Flicker streaming online
An American man smiles at Iran
Gatling bench test
The Hideous Sun Demon Movie
Horseflies Hush
Poetry as circular EVP records its own breathing
The Perkl Light energy spa
Realdoll sex dolls
The Rapture Index
Animal Trials
Buddy Christ
VietnamNet article.
Bastards of The Party
Lynch Law Investigation
The ZEB Device
Sybian & Venus
The Grim Reaper
"The most moral army in the world"
Flicker streaming online
An American man smiles at Iran
Gatling bench test
The Hideous Sun Demon Movie
Horseflies Hush
Poetry as circular EVP records its own breathing
bodyfield part 1 )ectoflarf(
is there another tenant in the building,
that we are unaware of?
—Terence McKenna
keep coming through on the radio
—the Rezillos
.............the creature in a sudden wind
scents its own past
all up the valley (du dormeur)
your deathpixie shriek (can they be insane?)
ベン＝マイモーンmagnetic resonance imaging
............(mythemetics)
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,... [2 3月2日skeet Mishnah-Nephesch ミシュナー
..........................oh you ugly electric fuck no Morphism 射
.......................(圏論) not as we know it no Mo-ho-notheism 一神教
.......................of soft descent May 23 (*) will be too late...]
遊牧民 Dunkirk ダンケルク [dun church the circus the starchamber]
ah ghostly MelanensO how soft thy rivertongues at night the Glob
ファック urgent consider stop consider the bodybomb
Ia Drang bubblewrap エIアキャップ
as a sequence of radio prints
[what is the unconscious map of this event?]
the track by which you arrived
........................(Disregard the sudden beauty
........................of the stars, Watson,
........................someone has stolen our fucking tent)
—can you be insane?
ベスト・キッド Life-death-rebirth
...retriangulate (adj)
snow fills his eyes with dusk & shit
[pilot blind & avid this vector this
.........course to steer] [the drowned boy in the attic
records fearfully his own footsteps]
there where the slowho
petals of the bright nightcat flick?)
エホバの証人
that we are unaware of?
—Terence McKenna
keep coming through on the radio
—the Rezillos
.............the creature in a sudden wind
scents its own past
all up the valley (du dormeur)
your deathpixie shriek (can they be insane?)
ベン＝マイモーンmagnetic resonance imaging
............(mythemetics)
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,... [2 3月2日skeet Mishnah-Nephesch ミシュナー
..........................oh you ugly electric fuck no Morphism 射
.......................(圏論) not as we know it no Mo-ho-notheism 一神教
.......................of soft descent May 23 (*) will be too late...]
遊牧民 Dunkirk ダンケルク [dun church the circus the starchamber]
ah ghostly MelanensO how soft thy rivertongues at night the Glob
ファック urgent consider stop consider the bodybomb
Ia Drang bubblewrap エIアキャップ
... エホバの証人の教義j
.........................The Karate Kidas a sequence of radio prints
[what is the unconscious map of this event?]
the track by which you arrived
........................(Disregard the sudden beauty
........................of the stars, Watson,
........................someone has stolen our fucking tent)
—can you be insane?
ベスト・キッド Life-death-rebirth
...retriangulate (adj)
snow fills his eyes with dusk & shit
[pilot blind & avid this vector this
.........course to steer] [the drowned boy in the attic
records fearfully his own footsteps]
there where the slowho
petals of the bright nightcat flick?)
エホバの証人
Sunday, September 20, 2009
scull soft as I oracle
each morning I drop
by the gas station
on the way
to the dropoff [dropdown/flux/a little skirt
the freak-fire in the wet]
I emblood outstick
the noxxle to my lips let it flow flood fillup
36lbs per square inch by inch
gets me inflated and heady
ready to crush
what is in my path arrive at work
with dead moths spread in my eyes
begin the slow climb
up the wall to the yellow light extended distaff erectio
here and there I will
catcall remains of my grandfather
through the long and winding one such day
clinging to a fatbulb with bulging eyes
you know blowhard [scat] it ain't easy
I look forward only—
only now with such investment in the fusèd skull
.
by the gas station
on the way
to the dropoff [dropdown/flux/a little skirt
the freak-fire in the wet]
I emblood outstick
the noxxle to my lips let it flow flood fillup
36lbs per square inch by inch
gets me inflated and heady
ready to crush
what is in my path arrive at work
with dead moths spread in my eyes
begin the slow climb
up the wall to the yellow light extended distaff erectio
here and there I will
catcall remains of my grandfather
through the long and winding one such day
clinging to a fatbulb with bulging eyes
you know blowhard [scat] it ain't easy
I look forward only—
only now with such investment in the fusèd skull
.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
poem for Maria
when I was eight years old
my Dad would wrestle with me
would hold me down
twist my arm behind my back
say give in submit
I never would
you can break my fucking arm
before I give in
I would say
in other gasped words
because I didn't yet know
these words
you're mad he would say
and get off me
distantly sensing the danger
that was to come
this dilemma of murder
unhinged me until
I was in a supermarket one day
and finally understood
that gods are shrivelled things
doled out by uninterested fishmongers
in worlds of stinking grey ice
.
my Dad would wrestle with me
would hold me down
twist my arm behind my back
say give in submit
I never would
you can break my fucking arm
before I give in
I would say
in other gasped words
because I didn't yet know
these words
you're mad he would say
and get off me
distantly sensing the danger
that was to come
this dilemma of murder
unhinged me until
I was in a supermarket one day
and finally understood
that gods are shrivelled things
doled out by uninterested fishmongers
in worlds of stinking grey ice
.
Friday, September 18, 2009
love in the middle of a firefight
the man is only twenty years— Cho Siu (1946)
old when the thing hits him
like a bullet
causing a disruption cone
that builds
as yawing begins at a tissue depth
of nine centimetres
the thing that hits him
like a bullet
is full-metal-jacketed boat-tailed
a copper-plated steel coat
steel core and lead
not a metaphor of love
just a chunk of metal
like love its purpose
profound disruption
of tissue
not necessarily death
but a wholesale tearing apart
of the interior
all his torso a latent hole
not gaping
but frowning
.
old when the thing hits him
like a bullet
causing a disruption cone
that builds
as yawing begins at a tissue depth
of nine centimetres
the thing that hits him
like a bullet
is full-metal-jacketed boat-tailed
a copper-plated steel coat
steel core and lead
not a metaphor of love
just a chunk of metal
like love its purpose
profound disruption
of tissue
not necessarily death
but a wholesale tearing apart
of the interior
all his torso a latent hole
not gaping
but frowning
.
Monday, September 14, 2009
tormentil
in the shaft down to Wycoller
steep and trodden deep descending sunlight alley
I was on my knees
like a magnifying glass
with my book of flowers
trying very hard to look
at a tiny tormentil
that had suddenly erupted from the banks
of the seventeenth century
in great difficulties of scale I now rolled
all down the packhorse track
in my new fractal hair and gait
.
steep and trodden deep descending sunlight alley
I was on my knees
like a magnifying glass
with my book of flowers
trying very hard to look
at a tiny tormentil
that had suddenly erupted from the banks
of the seventeenth century
in great difficulties of scale I now rolled
all down the packhorse track
in my new fractal hair and gait
.
love perm of the postmodern water reflex
how much do I need you?
I read about how bodybuilders
starve themselves of water during the last days
of training for a competition
the bodyfat comes off through cycling and pumping
they achieve maximum vascularity
all those vessels pimping out etc
it's difficult to get an erection
or think straight
or grow hair
the body cries for water
the many cries of the body
that much then
be assured that I've never ever said this to anyone else
this bodybuilder thing
.
I read about how bodybuilders
starve themselves of water during the last days
of training for a competition
the bodyfat comes off through cycling and pumping
they achieve maximum vascularity
all those vessels pimping out etc
it's difficult to get an erection
or think straight
or grow hair
the body cries for water
the many cries of the body
that much then
be assured that I've never ever said this to anyone else
this bodybuilder thing
.
diary entry date mutable (show don't tell
as though boiled water were itself the reagent
of consciousness I have added it to the fungus
though I expect to consume the body itself
when the water is nearly gone
already the sweat starts
but as yet no flying reindeer
I am gripped by the fear that resemblance
has no third party
but sink again into the reassurance that
it can always be described
and that it would be entirely Wittgenstein
to ignore the mathematics of poetry
this and this but look this resembles this
in that its nose is of similar length and hue
its hair is like
come running with a measure
to test the third proposition
this is not an etheric hover
it was observed that the actual host
engendered some nausea
& required some persistence and strength
to swallow
but for the sake of humanity
the thing was done
with only a little spray
whereof
thereof one must shout and show
& wieldof always a sauvage umbrella
in the manner of a determined Englishman
who will tolerate no foolishness
from foreign devils
.
of consciousness I have added it to the fungus
though I expect to consume the body itself
when the water is nearly gone
already the sweat starts
but as yet no flying reindeer
I am gripped by the fear that resemblance
has no third party
but sink again into the reassurance that
it can always be described
and that it would be entirely Wittgenstein
to ignore the mathematics of poetry
this and this but look this resembles this
in that its nose is of similar length and hue
its hair is like
come running with a measure
to test the third proposition
this is not an etheric hover
it was observed that the actual host
engendered some nausea
& required some persistence and strength
to swallow
but for the sake of humanity
the thing was done
with only a little spray
whereof
thereof one must shout and show
& wieldof always a sauvage umbrella
in the manner of a determined Englishman
who will tolerate no foolishness
from foreign devils
.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
your ardent gripe
so imagine this man underwater
in a rapid current
attempting to fit a bolt into a tiny aperture
over and over
the precision atrophies
as the exhaustion increases
by 19:33 he has had enough
flailing
sinks and drowns himself
throws it all up and surfaces shouting
kick kick
something
gets fierce and fastens in
something
now he is the river man
with fins
the dawn cracks over his head
just his eyes
slick the surface
wild fish eyes in the spray
body silence
beneath waiting
like him i will never
you know
something
etc
.
in a rapid current
attempting to fit a bolt into a tiny aperture
over and over
the precision atrophies
as the exhaustion increases
by 19:33 he has had enough
flailing
sinks and drowns himself
throws it all up and surfaces shouting
kick kick
something
gets fierce and fastens in
something
now he is the river man
with fins
the dawn cracks over his head
just his eyes
slick the surface
wild fish eyes in the spray
body silence
beneath waiting
like him i will never
you know
something
etc
.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
monster of light
the drunken men haul in home in on something they found
a dark alley—a storm of leaves—a bell
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,for a light
to shine upon it they sing low as they go
drag it behind
nor even feel or know or sight
it suck the long red shadows
from their backs
reach for home with nothing
..................a line that stretches away
..................into the cracks
their song used up
dusted in sleep
dawn kiss them goodnight
the world's last soft kindness
mulched in the deep
through the curtains
on the face of a sleeping child
the ticking stops light
floods in
drowns it all
.......................traces of a man
in the tidemark light
still flickers still
a book still open
where it fell
to some same page years later where now nothing
nor the softest knell
.
a dark alley—a storm of leaves—a bell
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,for a light
to shine upon it they sing low as they go
drag it behind
nor even feel or know or sight
it suck the long red shadows
from their backs
reach for home with nothing
..................a line that stretches away
..................into the cracks
their song used up
dusted in sleep
dawn kiss them goodnight
the world's last soft kindness
mulched in the deep
through the curtains
on the face of a sleeping child
the ticking stops light
floods in
drowns it all
.......................traces of a man
in the tidemark light
still flickers still
a book still open
where it fell
to some same page years later where now nothing
nor the softest knell
.
gnostic myth
the iconic brass boy stands on top
of the world urinating violently
his laughter cracking the floor
running down and around steaming
like an onion it drips off the south pole
reels out into space droplets
that catch the sun in golden spray
freezing in the vacuum of gaze
swinging back to attention
each is not a little world
just think of him up there
laughing like a clanking ape
nothing else happening anywhere
everything just silent waiting
until it's enough
until something remembers
reaches down
strokes it up into arousal
they wait forever
in their shared breath
each a tree grown into the other
leaning in together
ready
for the last laugh
.
of the world urinating violently
his laughter cracking the floor
running down and around steaming
like an onion it drips off the south pole
reels out into space droplets
that catch the sun in golden spray
freezing in the vacuum of gaze
swinging back to attention
each is not a little world
just think of him up there
laughing like a clanking ape
nothing else happening anywhere
everything just silent waiting
until it's enough
until something remembers
reaches down
strokes it up into arousal
they wait forever
in their shared breath
each a tree grown into the other
leaning in together
ready
for the last laugh
.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
sea-beams glitter
don't fuck around of course I've [i uv] felt it
on the roof in the rain naked *//[of goat husbandwidth devilfish]
alongside longsight secreted camera aliceaforethought
the neighbours watching the firemen the police shouting the priest
couldn't hear them at the time jump kid jump drink drive jump black
ican'thearyoumamaflagfuck
flag coming off as I did with a great slither
into Death
that with the warmth of history uploaded in squalls
exits the new language of ponds
looky here you have stormlight
crawling over the moment
you have the stone arch of the urge
you want the warmth I see
down the hall mother I don't want father
all of it runs/down over your face/face
and you sitting there giggling in the cafe
in the cafe you thin thing full of squawking rope
coughing out I would like to thank the academy
that schlucked you outta its soul so |]=] I could
love you love you unknown attenuate of the backdoorman
skin rolling back growing new eyes
one asshole staring out pronouncing
...............................................new+rivers of +words
............squaredoff landscape ugh//?make it numeric
............so I donts got to <>jump in the wild<> windhay no more
............with tha fuckfish
octodata agency will square you away
meep meep meep mop meep mop 2323(left leg in)
submarine rescue
on the roof in the rain naked *//[of goat husbandwidth devilfish]
alongside longsight secreted camera aliceaforethought
the neighbours watching the firemen the police shouting the priest
couldn't hear them at the time jump kid jump drink drive jump black
ican'thearyoumamaflagfuck
flag coming off as I did with a great slither
into Death
that with the warmth of history uploaded in squalls
exits the new language of ponds
looky here you have stormlight
crawling over the moment
you have the stone arch of the urge
you want the warmth I see
down the hall mother I don't want father
all of it runs/down over your face/face
and you sitting there giggling in the cafe
O she asked her for a fuck
but she said that was yuck
to do it in the park
when it was cold an dark
but she said that was yuck
to do it in the park
when it was cold an dark
in the cafe you thin thing full of squawking rope
coughing out I would like to thank the academy
that schlucked you outta its soul so |]=] I could
love you love you unknown attenuate of the backdoorman
your stoop sweeping down walls of light
I get it fuck
how it might have been there over the water
I get it fuck
how it might have been there over the water
skin rolling back growing new eyes
one asshole staring out pronouncing
...............................................new+rivers of +words
............squaredoff landscape ugh//?make it numeric
............so I donts got to <>jump in the wild<> windhay no more
............with tha fuckfish
octodata agency will square you away
meep meep meep mop meep mop 2323(left leg in)
submarine rescue
field the killcard at last orders
.
.
posting an application
stuck inside of Mobile—Bob Dylan
put it in she says
there are fields of static whenever I get close
the whole moment fizzes
we wait there with stuff dripping off us
magnet squawk rearrangement woo
I'm spinning
put it in why
better in than out she says
who says there ain't teeth in there waiting
to end all this I ask and she looks in no no teeth she says
just a wide open moment from either end
you don't ask you don't
see the sunrise over Karnac
get off me
the lights came on everyone was there laughing
okay I blew it the old fucking letter game
three nights alone on the tower
with a wet towel
listening to them cavorting below
petting my crow at dawn
I plan to start a cult with teeth
that will pull you up quick
listen mother I will kill your children
you don't stop this magnet woo
shit
please consider me most earnestly for this position
me and my dead candle crow atop
—oo mama can this really be the end?
.
put it in she says
there are fields of static whenever I get close
the whole moment fizzes
we wait there with stuff dripping off us
magnet squawk rearrangement woo
I'm spinning
put it in why
better in than out she says
who says there ain't teeth in there waiting
to end all this I ask and she looks in no no teeth she says
just a wide open moment from either end
you don't ask you don't
see the sunrise over Karnac
get off me
the lights came on everyone was there laughing
okay I blew it the old fucking letter game
three nights alone on the tower
with a wet towel
listening to them cavorting below
petting my crow at dawn
I plan to start a cult with teeth
that will pull you up quick
listen mother I will kill your children
you don't stop this magnet woo
shit
please consider me most earnestly for this position
me and my dead candle crow atop
—oo mama can this really be the end?
.
logolith riff
come out with the Dutchman—William Burroughs
he is just a small fracture
a god dancing behind the screen there
tugging the words like teeth
from our mouths I made him broken
in the forest shades before waking
come out with your hands
at least
come out come out whoever I tell him
you owe me adoration............ it is now vital
that we get this wrong
that this train does not move it only waits
for time to dial in a new station
on the wheels a new fix
over and over the same time
come out with the Dutch
man-woman-cloud He only becomes
...........................real if I rub His lamp
watch now hush
the bushes shake shake
the beginning of the world is, uh, nigh
.
.
he is just a small fracture
a god dancing behind the screen there
tugging the words like teeth
from our mouths I made him broken
in the forest shades before waking
come out with your hands
at least
come out come out whoever I tell him
you owe me adoration............ it is now vital
that we get this wrong
that this train does not move it only waits
for time to dial in a new station
on the wheels a new fix
over and over the same time
come out with the Dutch
man-woman-cloud He only becomes
...........................real if I rub His lamp
watch now hush
the bushes shake shake
the beginning of the world is, uh, nigh
.
.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
gimme that old time religion
sauvage (I know you don't like but let it spread
ruination)
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
.........................friend
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
quick before they melt away?
.
ruination)
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
.........................friend
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
quick before they melt away?
.
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
quietly
in the corner
by which I mean that masturbation
and eating are acceptable practices
under the same Sun we shift
moonbeam motherfucker
*
if you are sentient
in such a place
but at least one can smoke
quietly
in the corner
by which I mean that masturbation
and eating are acceptable practices
under the same Sun we shift
moonbeam motherfucker
*
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
gross
sparkling like crows over carrion
have you seen this shine?
fighting so hard for the right
to be powerless
without lift
intoxicated
sucked down into it
ringing its own big bell on the causeway
nothing
nothing
every little person doing
the worst best they can
drifting
I almost believe in God
.
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
gross
sparkling like crows over carrion
have you seen this shine?
fighting so hard for the right
to be powerless
without lift
intoxicated
sucked down into it
ringing its own big bell on the causeway
nothing
nothing
every little person doing
the worst best they can
drifting
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
(hush
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
.
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
(hush
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
.
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
.
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
drips
roofs
none of it is what it is
only what it's above
and below
it should be working about now
the paralysis
.
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
drips
roofs
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
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!
.
.
Friday, July 31, 2009
lights fall from the old man of the sea
we fight until I am exhausted
trying to hold a trickling thing of sand
a scintilla that drains back into the beach
a shock of trees
released by strong winds
he is a fish, a slither
an eel that flits away
then has me pinned
he is all around he clenches me tight shoves my face
towards his
buried down there
beneath our grinding feet
mine is down there too
iron-eyed our faces stare it out underground
through lock and tremor
as two prayers
to a god divided
who is it the tide sweeps in
and sucks out?
who becomes the tide will prevail
will not win
he is a lion he is my mother he is songbirds falling
as black snow in early evening my fingers are wings are poems
within his smoke we each fold back to embrace
count five sudden things of magic
and stamp and hold tight
lion mother phantom
my lost brother
whistles hard there in the waves
old father in the fallen leaves offshore
we walk into the sea
each carrying the other
light as children who cannot return
rise only as the tide
sends up her drowned lanterns
each with a heart of red sand
catching, holding
our breath beyond reach
.
trying to hold a trickling thing of sand
a scintilla that drains back into the beach
a shock of trees
released by strong winds
he is a fish, a slither
an eel that flits away
then has me pinned
he is all around he clenches me tight shoves my face
towards his
buried down there
beneath our grinding feet
mine is down there too
iron-eyed our faces stare it out underground
through lock and tremor
as two prayers
to a god divided
who is it the tide sweeps in
and sucks out?
who becomes the tide will prevail
will not win
he is a lion he is my mother he is songbirds falling
as black snow in early evening my fingers are wings are poems
within his smoke we each fold back to embrace
count five sudden things of magic
and stamp and hold tight
lion mother phantom
my lost brother
whistles hard there in the waves
old father in the fallen leaves offshore
we walk into the sea
each carrying the other
light as children who cannot return
rise only as the tide
sends up her drowned lanterns
each with a heart of red sand
catching, holding
our breath beyond reach
.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Jesus Army
around 3am some soldiers from the Jesus Army
find a 22 year old girl on acid crying in a ditch
at Glastonbury Festival
by 7am they have persuaded her to embrace Jesus
and be saved
at 9am they gather
and she and others are baptised
in an oil drum of water sprinkled with Oxo
she comes up spluttering and shocked
and the Jesus Army claps and cheers
Alice is now one of them
still coming down off acid
she looks cold and unbefriended
last night the guy shouts
Alice was on a trip
this morning
she's on a new trip
cheers
if you say anything about this
the Jesus Army Security
come and take your arms
move you
away from the scene
Alice don't need you no more
they keep going
slam dunk
all morning saving
with Oxo & Cold Water
it's a pretty thin gravy
they are drowning people in
.
find a 22 year old girl on acid crying in a ditch
at Glastonbury Festival
by 7am they have persuaded her to embrace Jesus
and be saved
at 9am they gather
and she and others are baptised
in an oil drum of water sprinkled with Oxo
she comes up spluttering and shocked
and the Jesus Army claps and cheers
Alice is now one of them
still coming down off acid
she looks cold and unbefriended
last night the guy shouts
Alice was on a trip
this morning
she's on a new trip
cheers
if you say anything about this
the Jesus Army Security
come and take your arms
move you
away from the scene
Alice don't need you no more
they keep going
slam dunk
all morning saving
with Oxo & Cold Water
it's a pretty thin gravy
they are drowning people in
.
their bets at night
I saw two hedgehogs
butting at each other
in the garden at night
instantly I was out there
telling them to stop
telling them
like little children
I saw two hedgehogs
in the garden at night
instantly I was out there
looking down from the firmament
impelled by my new prickle-drive
I saw two hedgehogs
it makes quite a mess
in the dark grass
I feel like a psychopath
with my blunt blade cackling
I saw two hedgehogs
I wanted to nestle alongside them
feel their spikes
getting soft
as the sun turned the grass
around
as the slugs flew away
with no sound
maybe there were no hogs
but I anyway
saw two hedge
.
butting at each other
in the garden at night
instantly I was out there
telling them to stop
telling them
like little children
I saw two hedgehogs
in the garden at night
instantly I was out there
looking down from the firmament
impelled by my new prickle-drive
I saw two hedgehogs
it makes quite a mess
in the dark grass
I feel like a psychopath
with my blunt blade cackling
I saw two hedgehogs
I wanted to nestle alongside them
feel their spikes
getting soft
as the sun turned the grass
around
as the slugs flew away
with no sound
maybe there were no hogs
but I anyway
saw two hedge
.
night of love
he hears something in the garden
he is scared he comes downstairs for reassurance
I hug him and take him back to bed
we share a moment there under the little alien nightlights
later I hear it too
in the beam of a torch I find two hedgehogs
making rhythmic rasping noises
there are lunar phases to this night
humours that tap at the window
signalling their arrival
a coughing of hedgehogs
as though the call and response of this house
gathered in nocturnal animals
who came to feed
I'll tell him about them tomorrow
the other one threw up the Tamiflu
I crushed into his milk
it steamed into the carpet
he's coughing now too
up there in the dark
in the dream a face at the window
silhouetted
a wild sort of face
the owls are yapping outside
somehow it has all swung in close
it is a faltering finger pushing in
a beak a proboscis
feeling for our weakness
it all feels like a nest
threatened by something outside
while we sit around the fire
counting another presence
in our midst
it feels invasive and familiar
something that has slept cocooned
in our bodies
there is a quiet over it all
muted voices in reassurance
the soft wash of the dark
adults holding children
lights far off
shining this way
but no one is coming
whatever was coming is already here
in the sensory fallback
of sickness
it is a night of love slipping
its ropes
.
he is scared he comes downstairs for reassurance
I hug him and take him back to bed
we share a moment there under the little alien nightlights
later I hear it too
in the beam of a torch I find two hedgehogs
making rhythmic rasping noises
there are lunar phases to this night
humours that tap at the window
signalling their arrival
a coughing of hedgehogs
as though the call and response of this house
gathered in nocturnal animals
who came to feed
I'll tell him about them tomorrow
the other one threw up the Tamiflu
I crushed into his milk
it steamed into the carpet
he's coughing now too
up there in the dark
in the dream a face at the window
silhouetted
a wild sort of face
the owls are yapping outside
somehow it has all swung in close
it is a faltering finger pushing in
a beak a proboscis
feeling for our weakness
it all feels like a nest
threatened by something outside
while we sit around the fire
counting another presence
in our midst
it feels invasive and familiar
something that has slept cocooned
in our bodies
there is a quiet over it all
muted voices in reassurance
the soft wash of the dark
adults holding children
lights far off
shining this way
but no one is coming
whatever was coming is already here
in the sensory fallback
of sickness
it is a night of love slipping
its ropes
.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
cock and awe
...............................................I know it says that but
every way it slants
..........................through there is a otherwise
look at this at this like why that age that age only
at thirty you wouldn't do it you'd know better
so the sap wires run down ............all night telegraph
there is arbitrary magic to this soup
........................................come on let it unwind
..............................this isn't sex it is only a blowjob
...............don't find any meaning in it
with your........................blue/black dress now stained
for all history the most famous dress the most famous
stain it even suggests the position
the Rock and Roll presidential genuflection
...........hoohaaa least you weren't Linzey
.....to have to eat up such
weren't a Jew playing Achtung
weren't an orange guy in Kooba
busting out like Quttb
what you whining for
all you gels was made to eat cock anyway
.................cock and awe
skeets raining down from on high
impregnating everything
........for another millennium
now Sarah Palin is coming like the Iditarod
oh god yes no yes I am a cloud
beneath which
is no land
within which
is no moisture
it's as little as little gets
like a toadstool in the head
like a corkscrew to the fart
......................it littles out
looking avidly for shit
upon which to recline
and get with it
with a teenage sweetheart
the internet has blown every chance I had
of becoming a politician
ugh it has forced honesty upon me
yeah I agree
who cares
.
.
every way it slants
..........................through there is a otherwise
look at this at this like why that age that age only
at thirty you wouldn't do it you'd know better
so the sap wires run down ............all night telegraph
there is arbitrary magic to this soup
........................................come on let it unwind
..............................this isn't sex it is only a blowjob
...............don't find any meaning in it
with your........................blue/black dress now stained
for all history the most famous dress the most famous
stain it even suggests the position
the Rock and Roll presidential genuflection
...........hoohaaa least you weren't Linzey
.....to have to eat up such
weren't a Jew playing Achtung
weren't an orange guy in Kooba
busting out like Quttb
what you whining for
all you gels was made to eat cock anyway
.................cock and awe
skeets raining down from on high
impregnating everything
........for another millennium
now Sarah Palin is coming like the Iditarod
oh god yes no yes I am a cloud
beneath which
is no land
within which
is no moisture
it's as little as little gets
like a toadstool in the head
like a corkscrew to the fart
......................it littles out
looking avidly for shit
upon which to recline
and get with it
with a teenage sweetheart
the internet has blown every chance I had
of becoming a politician
ugh it has forced honesty upon me
yeah I agree
who cares
.
.
Monday, July 27, 2009
mittageisen
in the awful awk that the brain works oh
in silence sly savages
in flower salvage so they stoop
look how they have fallen upon that body
do you read divination in this? hey anklebones
a strange moment has come upon us
flee from the scene
large dogs like that
tic tac into the Lego baby
it's never what you think
.
.
in silence sly savages
in flower salvage so they stoop
look how they have fallen upon that body
do you read divination in this? hey anklebones
a strange moment has come upon us
flee from the scene
large dogs like that
tic tac into the Lego baby
it's never what you think
.
.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
a moment with the coconut circle
(dedicated to John Kinsella)
there in the shade in the forest
in the place near the spring
in the midday in Midsummer
coconut
that was dredged up from the sea
that was found speaking
in the rings of the sea in its rings
with magic
sea-coconut can you be real
in your dreamswirl
your kelp arbours...
so lofty as you are
we all stand watching
it ring its bright thing
it shimmers there at eye level
scruffy hairy rough little sea-god
rattling with poet-milk
a ring of pigs around the cocogod
up on their back legs
truffling the moment
who we wonder will be the first
to rush in
to start the dance
while it lasts
before we fall again
onto our front trotters
shuffle off quiet
into the stench
of hot mast
each of us now asnort in our ringing avast
bringing
our pigs to the ring
at last at last
singing our unknown things
.
there in the shade in the forest
in the place near the spring
in the midday in Midsummer
coconut
that was dredged up from the sea
that was found speaking
in the rings of the sea in its rings
with magic
sea-coconut can you be real
in your dreamswirl
your kelp arbours...
so lofty as you are
we all stand watching
it ring its bright thing
it shimmers there at eye level
scruffy hairy rough little sea-god
rattling with poet-milk
a ring of pigs around the cocogod
up on their back legs
truffling the moment
who we wonder will be the first
to rush in
to start the dance
while it lasts
before we fall again
onto our front trotters
shuffle off quiet
into the stench
of hot mast
each of us now asnort in our ringing avast
bringing
our pigs to the ring
at last at last
singing our unknown things
.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
would you cut off all your limbs for love (a poem about politics) unconvinced jitter of the low canopy
I know we have done this in jigsaw glances but I wanted to ask formally
if you would mind
making this sacrifice
if I had become paraphiliac
and just required it
these are the tests of true love caller-wauler
please keep holding
as your answer is important
it knits together here it's a little precise
nice attack of the complex patterns uh of life
let us hold hands to celebrate that one
it's between us now
in the air the ether (hold hands)
unrecoverable
I have committed myself
to a diet of cold hard unsoaked beans
I spit like a peashooter
I am a marine iguana
please keep holding
while we organise a response
now watch this seaflop dush
crushing wet cottages in the land of the giants
as he walks home dripping
seriously there's a crush I have
starting as influx entering froth
now the alchemical steel
the holding back of the rush
until the moment of caramelising
then the sink
the relief
this much chaos takes discipline
a two year old child
should be covered at all times in bright sunlight Diesel
notwithstanding
like waves of goats they came running from the hillsides
shouting Owain Owain vast deltas await you O you
look go back through it with a spacesuit
it's the only way
no it's really not
yes it etc
screw it to the sticking station
and let's none of us exactly sleepover
(got wood, yeah, Tranquility Base, got wood)
.
if you would mind
making this sacrifice
if I had become paraphiliac
and just required it
these are the tests of true love caller-wauler
please keep holding
as your answer is important
it knits together here it's a little precise
nice attack of the complex patterns uh of life
let us hold hands to celebrate that one
it's between us now
in the air the ether (hold hands)
unrecoverable
I have committed myself
to a diet of cold hard unsoaked beans
I spit like a peashooter
I am a marine iguana
please keep holding
while we organise a response
now watch this seaflop dush
crushing wet cottages in the land of the giants
as he walks home dripping
seriously there's a crush I have
starting as influx entering froth
now the alchemical steel
the holding back of the rush
until the moment of caramelising
then the sink
the relief
this much chaos takes discipline
a two year old child
should be covered at all times in bright sunlight Diesel
notwithstanding
like waves of goats they came running from the hillsides
shouting Owain Owain vast deltas await you O you
look go back through it with a spacesuit
it's the only way
no it's really not
yes it etc
screw it to the sticking station
and let's none of us exactly sleepover
(got wood, yeah, Tranquility Base, got wood)
.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Nelson's Melody
it's all black out there tonight
not a star or a stray stop-out
to steer by
just thick black tarry night
that runs into you
pushes down your throat
fills you up with stiff ink
somewhere in this Nelson night
he's standing like Churchill
by a bus stop eating sardines
soaked in Brandy
flicking the old V sign
with his ghost arm
but no one can see any of this
through this murk
that has come down
we feel our history in braille tonight
unsighted sardines
saying nothing
our throats filled with pitch
with silent cannonades
with seawater
thick with dead songs
we raise our distal
intermediate
proximal phalanges
in some skeletal shimmer
of ending defiance
nothing will be seen since
.
not a star or a stray stop-out
to steer by
just thick black tarry night
that runs into you
pushes down your throat
fills you up with stiff ink
somewhere in this Nelson night
he's standing like Churchill
by a bus stop eating sardines
soaked in Brandy
flicking the old V sign
with his ghost arm
but no one can see any of this
through this murk
that has come down
we feel our history in braille tonight
unsighted sardines
saying nothing
our throats filled with pitch
with silent cannonades
with seawater
thick with dead songs
we raise our distal
intermediate
proximal phalanges
in some skeletal shimmer
of ending defiance
nothing will be seen since
.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Mr Hargreaves the grocery necromancer with one thumb
the hit or miss governor etc I accept
these things as wonders
a burning pontoon floating out
while this continues you can detect the onset of rain
just from the feel and the look
we carry this detection
in our hemispheres like potatoes and tomatoes
they hit the ground and that's that
splat splat splat
the language has nothing
the language has nothing to do
the language has nothing to do with it
the language has nothing to do with it showing
glowing in the shape of a shop
hey Mr Hargreaves walk me to school in your cabbage white shoe polish light
mist across Liverpool huh
see here tablet eat
be well down there in chinatown
foghorns
huge cattle crashing down the Mersey
rusting back into your dirty little throat
the pontoons (firing up)
the pontoons (Grandmother)
the pontoons (no one)
oh god our kites dropping
.
these things as wonders
a burning pontoon floating out
while this continues you can detect the onset of rain
just from the feel and the look
we carry this detection
in our hemispheres like potatoes and tomatoes
they hit the ground and that's that
splat splat splat
the language has nothing
the language has nothing to do
the language has nothing to do with it
the language has nothing to do with it showing
glowing in the shape of a shop
hey Mr Hargreaves walk me to school in your cabbage white shoe polish light
mist across Liverpool huh
see here tablet eat
be well down there in chinatown
foghorns
huge cattle crashing down the Mersey
rusting back into your dirty little throat
the pontoons (firing up)
the pontoons (Grandmother)
the pontoons (no one)
oh god our kites dropping
.
Monday, July 13, 2009
two stoops over Pateley
overlooking Guisecliffe at about 3am
like a crane extended over the blue black
swirl
leaning out
I would like to suggest we abseil down
into the lost world
it's wet and hot down there
it's steep
maybe we can deal with hot
wet and steep
with North West Eliminate reared above us
it's tricky in the dark
that first traverse
but then you are on the arete
it's juggy and bright in the light
of a headtorch
cobwebs everywhere
sharp V of an arete
legs astride
a cheval
vertical
headlights beaming
some of those holds move
when you pull them
there's a little area on top
where I thought we could sit
looking down looking out
across dark Pateley
like little drunken godrats
in the gritstone
and grass
drinking watching the sunrise
kick itself right back up the hillside
.
like a crane extended over the blue black
swirl
leaning out
I would like to suggest we abseil down
into the lost world
it's wet and hot down there
it's steep
maybe we can deal with hot
wet and steep
with North West Eliminate reared above us
it's tricky in the dark
that first traverse
but then you are on the arete
it's juggy and bright in the light
of a headtorch
cobwebs everywhere
sharp V of an arete
legs astride
a cheval
vertical
headlights beaming
some of those holds move
when you pull them
there's a little area on top
where I thought we could sit
looking down looking out
across dark Pateley
like little drunken godrats
in the gritstone
and grass
drinking watching the sunrise
kick itself right back up the hillside
.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
an occurrence on sheep-creek bridge
if someone followed every cord in this carpet
I think they would walk several miles before they arrived
in the other corner
it might take a few hours
and there they would find a low roof
the persistence of arrogant sexual perversion
some candles just fallen over
spilling wax
evidence of drug-taking
clearly some dacoits had just left the scene
following the carpet god back up the hill
the sneak-god who just walked in
snuffles down in the fluff in the firelight
rolls itself in feathers
sings itself to sheep
they coo at the window astonished
as pigeons
twitching their ears
at his overtones
wondering if they should come in
but it's just not the time for sheep
nor swimmin neither
.
I think they would walk several miles before they arrived
in the other corner
it might take a few hours
and there they would find a low roof
the persistence of arrogant sexual perversion
some candles just fallen over
spilling wax
evidence of drug-taking
clearly some dacoits had just left the scene
following the carpet god back up the hill
the sneak-god who just walked in
snuffles down in the fluff in the firelight
rolls itself in feathers
sings itself to sheep
they coo at the window astonished
as pigeons
twitching their ears
at his overtones
wondering if they should come in
but it's just not the time for sheep
nor swimmin neither
.
being interview
it was as though moss
had grown over everything
the faces the torsos the carpets and TV
I ran around in the new green vacuum
shaking hands with anyone still alive
them foliate faces sneered back
down in the alley where the mushmen grow
the wind comes on and we start to slow
breaking wind is never straightforward
for adults in company
my old man laughed from the clocktower
heh he said fat remind them fat
is a feminist
tissue
I mean like atishoo
it was a joke about a pandemic
that no one got
he'd been waiting with it for years
but I was now in
a reality show
how now to eschew
like this he is cavalier with our safety
his pheromones fill the car
I cannot resist his crash and verve
O take me home before
I wet myself
Jesus is a rally driver
or something
who stopped for a piss
underneath a tree
in which a barn owl
was evacuating
this is why he has that white streak
down his face
in all authenticated photographs
his schoolmates still call him Streaky
though his new gang
are all icky and polite
he hates them really
but they buy him fish
to eat on the forest tracks
where he shoots owls
Jesus he whispers Jesus
there in the fucked frost
of his own south mouth
.
had grown over everything
the faces the torsos the carpets and TV
I ran around in the new green vacuum
shaking hands with anyone still alive
them foliate faces sneered back
down in the alley where the mushmen grow
the wind comes on and we start to slow
breaking wind is never straightforward
for adults in company
my old man laughed from the clocktower
heh he said fat remind them fat
is a feminist
tissue
I mean like atishoo
it was a joke about a pandemic
that no one got
he'd been waiting with it for years
but I was now in
a reality show
how now to eschew
like this he is cavalier with our safety
his pheromones fill the car
I cannot resist his crash and verve
O take me home before
I wet myself
Jesus is a rally driver
or something
who stopped for a piss
underneath a tree
in which a barn owl
was evacuating
this is why he has that white streak
down his face
in all authenticated photographs
his schoolmates still call him Streaky
though his new gang
are all icky and polite
he hates them really
but they buy him fish
to eat on the forest tracks
where he shoots owls
Jesus he whispers Jesus
there in the fucked frost
of his own south mouth
.
Friday, July 10, 2009
pumping the far road eastward
I am not so outsourced from humanity
and its bovine origins
that I don't feel hurt
when you dig up my relatives
there with lanterns and curses
I only bide it for the holy pumpkin
here in my stiff blanket
aloft
.
and its bovine origins
that I don't feel hurt
when you dig up my relatives
there with lanterns and curses
I only bide it for the holy pumpkin
here in my stiff blanket
aloft
.
bees of the fury
going further was no longer a choice
it had become a thing of condition
he felt it like waves
rolling in
each new tide
could mean murder or religion
so many things had become uncertain
in the middle of it all he sat
saying things like aha
the weather here oh
it shines now
where it used to shake
there are so many things to consider
when setting out to establish
a new cult
what, for instance, will we wear
and what attitude will we adopt?
it won't do at all to be complacent
for we are not merely rats
but now examples to all humanity
in our long-tailed sunshine
our incessant whirling
our devastating umbrella
of all that is new and holy
O how we advance inwards
knowing no caution
but the bees aloft
.
it had become a thing of condition
he felt it like waves
rolling in
each new tide
could mean murder or religion
so many things had become uncertain
in the middle of it all he sat
saying things like aha
the weather here oh
it shines now
where it used to shake
there are so many things to consider
when setting out to establish
a new cult
what, for instance, will we wear
and what attitude will we adopt?
it won't do at all to be complacent
for we are not merely rats
but now examples to all humanity
in our long-tailed sunshine
our incessant whirling
our devastating umbrella
of all that is new and holy
O how we advance inwards
knowing no caution
but the bees aloft
.
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
fell cow from plane
her moves in the sky etc
now listen
in the askance a story unclouds
a Japanese fisher
what could he fish upwards
gazing down there Take Kakuzo
it comes from above
envisioning cows of the deep
we are beset by the pressing sky
Brother Lustig at the lake laughing
the Devil in his knapsack
you are furled in your stockpot
little yellow-winged cowman
until the cows come home to roost
three elements you may count
East/Sky/Cow
these are future/present/past
as lantern as pond imps
gathered upon you
a slow dream of sinking
in a lake with a small island
reaching down the inking
into the highland
catch now these blue oranges
which here I toss
see uproaring they spark and shout
under your hide of sparks
dance aloft then oh good grief
.
now listen
in the askance a story unclouds
a Japanese fisher
what could he fish upwards
gazing down there Take Kakuzo
it comes from above
envisioning cows of the deep
we are beset by the pressing sky
Brother Lustig at the lake laughing
the Devil in his knapsack
you are furled in your stockpot
little yellow-winged cowman
until the cows come home to roost
three elements you may count
East/Sky/Cow
these are future/present/past
as lantern as pond imps
gathered upon you
a slow dream of sinking
in a lake with a small island
reaching down the inking
into the highland
catch now these blue oranges
which here I toss
see uproaring they spark and shout
under your hide of sparks
dance aloft then oh good grief
.
cooling angels beneath broken box
I will I mean I am anyway avid
at tapping
I have realised now
the thing sits there shifty
deep in the belly
in the waiting room it slides
hey it laughs you hear the one about
no no one heard that one no
there's a thing like a trunk
keeps reaching in snuffing
fuck's sake you might say christ
you say fuck and I say banana
really does this help
outside in midsummer
when the grass is wet
oh I can't slough it up that easily
it's a waiting thing inside
that's all not a dream no
because you would dismiss that
no a turning thing inside
a shift no no
a strophe
a catastrophe
here are the forces
in which I am still banging this drum
shatter here the telephone
lean in
man my gas biceps look big tonight in candlelight
they are lifting me outta my chair
like little Hindenburgs
call me fishmale
for I am a flapper
full of gas I have come over
full of gas
I have come clover
that ship\/////////
haha foundered a new nation
it keeps coming in storms in morse code
dead to each other now
we smile every next hour pigeons
dropping on our rooftops at dawn
cooing angry stop
in heavy weather
.
at tapping
I have realised now
the thing sits there shifty
deep in the belly
in the waiting room it slides
hey it laughs you hear the one about
no no one heard that one no
there's a thing like a trunk
keeps reaching in snuffing
fuck's sake you might say christ
you say fuck and I say banana
really does this help
outside in midsummer
when the grass is wet
oh I can't slough it up that easily
it's a waiting thing inside
that's all not a dream no
because you would dismiss that
no a turning thing inside
a shift no no
a strophe
a catastrophe
here are the forces
in which I am still banging this drum
shatter here the telephone
lean in
man my gas biceps look big tonight in candlelight
they are lifting me outta my chair
like little Hindenburgs
call me fishmale
for I am a flapper
full of gas I have come over
full of gas
I have come clover
that ship\/////////
haha foundered a new nation
it keeps coming in storms in morse code
dead to each other now
we smile every next hour pigeons
dropping on our rooftops at dawn
cooing angry stop
in heavy weather
.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
every excuse for warfare
there was a poem that went nowhere
it went nowhere like this:
vat/indecision/pink/pink
they were dead voices
down the bowling alley
it dropped down
throat
heart
chakra
the anus thrust back at the face
it was disquieting
all those absences
the roof leaning in on wires
two men danced opposite each other today
each connected separated
by blades of intent
the one pulling the other
push pull you know
as though there was something in it
I mean something in it
you things of light
saying nothing
now watch this moondragon bend at the waist
and lift
.
it went nowhere like this:
vat/indecision/pink/pink
they were dead voices
down the bowling alley
it dropped down
throat
heart
chakra
the anus thrust back at the face
it was disquieting
all those absences
the roof leaning in on wires
two men danced opposite each other today
each connected separated
by blades of intent
the one pulling the other
push pull you know
as though there was something in it
I mean something in it
you things of light
saying nothing
now watch this moondragon bend at the waist
and lift
.
giants dance under the waves
don't look at me like that
what story are you trying to tell?
I can't help but hear drumming
why the silence anyway?
how do you feel about your mother?
okay I just said that
because I couldn't think
how do you feel about crows then?
do they crawl inside you and eat things?
is that too invasive?
why are you slapping the chair?
here's a story a man was typing on a computer
and an insect a tiny tiny thing was crawling
over a key that he wanted to hit
he was in a quandary because he was a kind man
who didn't like to kill things
a giant suddenly shifted itself from the paint
and masonry of the room in which he sat
for a moment it bore down upon him
it didn't grab him it just vanished
though he was left with the idea
that it could have grabbed him
this doesn't relate to the insect in the sense
that to the insect the man
was a giant
it just happened and left him confused
watching the little speck crawling
god only knows where these things go to
outside there were fireworks for Eid
he felt himself close up slightly
with each explosion
though he tried hard not to be racist
somewhere in his knees he thought
there was something locked away
to do with his mother
to do with fireworks or
rain
Eid mubarak he thought
rail travel is the future
maybe powered by high-flying balloons
maybe not that exactly but
the wind anyway must be utilised
in any future reality
at this point he paid the kind man
he was in a pretty terrible state
down the old stairs that were collapsing
into the river
.
what story are you trying to tell?
I can't help but hear drumming
why the silence anyway?
how do you feel about your mother?
okay I just said that
because I couldn't think
how do you feel about crows then?
do they crawl inside you and eat things?
is that too invasive?
why are you slapping the chair?
here's a story a man was typing on a computer
and an insect a tiny tiny thing was crawling
over a key that he wanted to hit
he was in a quandary because he was a kind man
who didn't like to kill things
a giant suddenly shifted itself from the paint
and masonry of the room in which he sat
for a moment it bore down upon him
it didn't grab him it just vanished
though he was left with the idea
that it could have grabbed him
this doesn't relate to the insect in the sense
that to the insect the man
was a giant
it just happened and left him confused
watching the little speck crawling
god only knows where these things go to
outside there were fireworks for Eid
he felt himself close up slightly
with each explosion
though he tried hard not to be racist
somewhere in his knees he thought
there was something locked away
to do with his mother
to do with fireworks or
rain
Eid mubarak he thought
rail travel is the future
maybe powered by high-flying balloons
maybe not that exactly but
the wind anyway must be utilised
in any future reality
at this point he paid the kind man
he was in a pretty terrible state
down the old stairs that were collapsing
into the river
.
Saturday, July 04, 2009
friend of goats
all goats have always loved me
in their yellow upside down eyes
I get my fist soft and ready
screw it into the skull
with sounds of affection
if necessary I'll get down in the mud
and butt her a little
till she gets the idea
then back off quick
before she gets serious
go back to the gentle fist
she will twist her head around on my knuckles
occasionally stopping to look up
to make sure I'm enjoying it as much
ah baby you okay
she says
yeah I'm okay
let's keep doing this all day
sometimes she will let me ride her
I've never got down and suckled a goat
that would be too much for me
but the feel of the hairy udders
as you squeeze them into thin jets
of milk warm and swirling with white hairs
in a pan
the smell of milk and hot pelt and dawn
yes we did this at dawn...
do you know that goats like to give birth at dawn
on calm misty days?
I always knew how to find them and when
they would be there with their hind legs apart
a little drunk from the shake of it all
somewhere behind a hedge or a barn
in the still moment
wisps of fog all around
ready to lay down in the dew
but waiting for me
it doesn't take long for them to squeeze out
but you have to keep the rats off the baby
if it's near a barn
after half an hour
we would walk back in together
both a little slimy
me carrying the newborn
her waddling a little sassy
both of us ready for applause
from our separate places
a yellow eye goat can shift
across a yard
quicker than a bird
no one will see
there I was walking in alone
my jumper covered in blood and eggwhite
sticky with secret shit
.
in their yellow upside down eyes
I get my fist soft and ready
screw it into the skull
with sounds of affection
if necessary I'll get down in the mud
and butt her a little
till she gets the idea
then back off quick
before she gets serious
go back to the gentle fist
she will twist her head around on my knuckles
occasionally stopping to look up
to make sure I'm enjoying it as much
ah baby you okay
she says
yeah I'm okay
let's keep doing this all day
sometimes she will let me ride her
I've never got down and suckled a goat
that would be too much for me
but the feel of the hairy udders
as you squeeze them into thin jets
of milk warm and swirling with white hairs
in a pan
the smell of milk and hot pelt and dawn
yes we did this at dawn...
do you know that goats like to give birth at dawn
on calm misty days?
I always knew how to find them and when
they would be there with their hind legs apart
a little drunk from the shake of it all
somewhere behind a hedge or a barn
in the still moment
wisps of fog all around
ready to lay down in the dew
but waiting for me
it doesn't take long for them to squeeze out
but you have to keep the rats off the baby
if it's near a barn
after half an hour
we would walk back in together
both a little slimy
me carrying the newborn
her waddling a little sassy
both of us ready for applause
from our separate places
a yellow eye goat can shift
across a yard
quicker than a bird
no one will see
there I was walking in alone
my jumper covered in blood and eggwhite
sticky with secret shit
.
ex libris
have we read all of these books between us?
we are now so stuffed with words
they ooze out from our holes
these books between us
somewhere far back
there was a chapter
that woke me
shook me by the ears
like a wolf
since then it's all been grazing
forgetfulness
if someone bursts in now
some wild ruffian
demanding to know at once the situation
I won't know which book to find it in
it's in all that somewhere
over there over there
I will whisper
gesturing faintly
from my seat in the orchids
as you wheeze
back there in the shadows
where I hear your chair creak
.
we are now so stuffed with words
they ooze out from our holes
these books between us
somewhere far back
there was a chapter
that woke me
shook me by the ears
like a wolf
since then it's all been grazing
forgetfulness
if someone bursts in now
some wild ruffian
demanding to know at once the situation
I won't know which book to find it in
it's in all that somewhere
over there over there
I will whisper
gesturing faintly
from my seat in the orchids
as you wheeze
back there in the shadows
where I hear your chair creak
.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Billie Jean
at his death they came out to praise him
glad that his skin would again turn black
would make him easier to employ
—Noises of the Bad People, Isobel Fluck (1989)
there's no excuse for inobesity
in an age with lipothrust
and easy credit fraud be bop be bop beat it...
only 34 only 34 no not him he look like 70
oh this ain't charlie paharker
the woman whose heart
eventually felt like a gasp
of cold morning only
the man saw himself now as an egg broke open
I looked for my humour
found it black bile unbalanced
I ate blood pudding and oysters
..............for a month I sat there like shit
I was prescribed pornography and tumult
[this part was missing but]
found his own egg in dreams
..............................in treetops
stifling and terrifying forces closed in
at the moment of waking
beat it beat it
she found now her own enemy
gathered into herself
she was a weapon
that could only be used
everything around waited for a decision
you could feel it hang
drool running out of its barrels
waiting to decide
what would be the best way to dance on this one
given that all that pissing
now had to be unpissed
she thought for a while in her dreams
that watching America do Politics
was like dying of Huntington's Chorea
by proxy
slowly
but westward look the land
is shite and Billie Jean
was not/was/was not
fucking was
yguduh
these the oysters comin in thick mothers
cross the loamin ocean-land
Billie Jean..............Billie Jean
Billie Jean..............Billie Jean
.
glad that his skin would again turn black
would make him easier to employ
—Noises of the Bad People, Isobel Fluck (1989)
there's no excuse for inobesity
in an age with lipothrust
and easy credit fraud be bop be bop beat it...
only 34 only 34 no not him he look like 70
oh this ain't charlie paharker
the woman whose heart
eventually felt like a gasp
of cold morning only
the man saw himself now as an egg broke open
I looked for my humour
found it black bile unbalanced
I ate blood pudding and oysters
..............for a month I sat there like shit
I was prescribed pornography and tumult
[this part was missing but]
found his own egg in dreams
..............................in treetops
stifling and terrifying forces closed in
at the moment of waking
beat it beat it
she found now her own enemy
gathered into herself
she was a weapon
that could only be used
everything around waited for a decision
you could feel it hang
drool running out of its barrels
waiting to decide
what would be the best way to dance on this one
given that all that pissing
now had to be unpissed
she thought for a while in her dreams
that watching America do Politics
was like dying of Huntington's Chorea
by proxy
slowly
but westward look the land
is shite and Billie Jean
was not/was/was not
fucking was
yguduh
WOOOOOOO
turb turnthese the oysters comin in thick mothers
cross the loamin ocean-land
Billie Jean..............Billie Jean
Billie Jean..............Billie Jean
.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Papua
I didn't know if the penis sheath
would work
would be considered acceptable
by the guys
but they took it in good spirit
we moved on
by lunchtime it was hardly noticed
though one old feller clasped my arm
and for a moment things whirred
around us
as if we were antennae
downloading a storm far away
channelling a storm far away
into a map awash with tears
so grey
I must bray
I held him back with my amulets
I clutched at him there
shaking things in his face
don't you know I cried
don't you know
that this is not the time?
It all seemed to smell a little
as though ghosts had walked here
stinking by as they sometimes
neither of us really knew anything
now it was over
I was again a whale or more
how did you ever could you
he said think this would work
like the boys wouldn't notice
now this and not this
is a whale
of a time
a penis sheath aristotle-onassis
pull up a chair and wriggle, bro
here-have a seminal fluid
tailcock at death's door
this is a whale of a time
about to happen
this is the place
where all doors fail
appen
.
would work
would be considered acceptable
by the guys
but they took it in good spirit
we moved on
by lunchtime it was hardly noticed
though one old feller clasped my arm
and for a moment things whirred
around us
as if we were antennae
downloading a storm far away
channelling a storm far away
into a map awash with tears
so grey
I must bray
I held him back with my amulets
I clutched at him there
shaking things in his face
don't you know I cried
don't you know
that this is not the time?
It all seemed to smell a little
as though ghosts had walked here
stinking by as they sometimes
neither of us really knew anything
now it was over
I was again a whale or more
how did you ever could you
he said think this would work
like the boys wouldn't notice
now this and not this
is a whale
of a time
a penis sheath aristotle-onassis
pull up a chair and wriggle, bro
here-have a seminal fluid
tailcock at death's door
this is a whale of a time
about to happen
this is the place
where all doors fail
appen
.
inferno walking with plans
Alfred Stieglitz died on my birthday
no one can blame him for that
but the thing is he went out dancing
carrying a pink umbrella
like he was Nietzsche's ape child
and the night you see was rather flat
not at all wild or stellar
like he might have wished
anyway that was that
if anything should die of this
then let me issue this quick kiss
that rather than be thought remiss
it all falls down in such sweet bliss
who could ask?
.
no one can blame him for that
but the thing is he went out dancing
carrying a pink umbrella
like he was Nietzsche's ape child
and the night you see was rather flat
not at all wild or stellar
like he might have wished
anyway that was that
if anything should die of this
then let me issue this quick kiss
that rather than be thought remiss
it all falls down in such sweet bliss
who could ask?
.
really nothing
all of it comes walking
in great swathes across the swamp
all of it come swamp
swathes across across
across
across
great swathes
walk and swamp and cross
sometimes
I reach out
I will kill you
how we
fall
while the currents
\
.
in great swathes across the swamp
all of it come swamp
swathes across across
across
across
great swathes
walk and swamp and cross
sometimes
I reach out
I will kill you
how we
fall
while the currents
\
.
upon the nothingness grey men erupted
we reach towards the light
the light beams down
a fly walks around inside the shade
I'm sure that fly will die
it's got nothing there
the lampshade
like some wild umbrella
lifts into the night
.
the light beams down
a fly walks around inside the shade
I'm sure that fly will die
it's got nothing there
the lampshade
like some wild umbrella
lifts into the night
.
until again the wheel starts
it was a beat
that moved in and out
I could hear voices far off
in the night
dogs barked out there
it was all maddening
somehow sadly I walked to the window
there was a thing looking in the garden
a stunted thing that ran
as the light spilled from the curtains
I went out
I found it by its beat
there behind
some shrub
it lay still jerking
but now beyond all recovery
I carried it in
it was light as a cat
light as a cat
depicted do I have to spell
I laid it out on the table
started to read slowly
there with the candles like ghosts
you in your yawning the wait and the break
the flood stops here
this barrage
we read together until morning
when the men started singing
in the room by the river
and I had to swallow
such a thing such a thing
my ancestor of night
.
that moved in and out
I could hear voices far off
in the night
dogs barked out there
it was all maddening
somehow sadly I walked to the window
there was a thing looking in the garden
a stunted thing that ran
as the light spilled from the curtains
I went out
I found it by its beat
there behind
some shrub
it lay still jerking
but now beyond all recovery
I carried it in
it was light as a cat
light as a cat
depicted do I have to spell
I laid it out on the table
started to read slowly
there with the candles like ghosts
you in your yawning the wait and the break
the flood stops here
this barrage
we read together until morning
when the men started singing
in the room by the river
and I had to swallow
such a thing such a thing
my ancestor of night
.
Friday, June 19, 2009
clocks of daylight love (the cruellest month
of all this thing that overpowers
this feeling this allowing of a thing
to sit so shaped in the head and hands
all of its shimmer its slide its positioning
that follows with this ease and breath
easing itself out into the other thing
it is closed together closing opening
give give this itself is time and time's slow climate
and then only the next moment
but open all of your places
on/off press here this here these are things
that are fishes that dream through us here this
is a soft anvil upon which we loll and wind
here are cats and birds rolling out their things
to be known to be known to me
all of me your flickering back its reptile flick
of catenary sloughs off
..............................rain
[along which my earthing only]
that lift and heave and slump
its sudden shake of electric downs
our own sea creatures now stark
live in the arrival of summer frets
here on the spread of day spread
under arches of heather low
as breaking this is the sea's weave
it is the clam's clutch deep and high
and high and mid-high rearing purple
flowers up from the storm these lows
grasp fossil forces night forces up
.......up from the loam and intake
as kestrels in the moment break off
then see again and re-engage
.........................seeing harder
hissing and whirring no more stop stop
then only then only
................the stoop
.
this feeling this allowing of a thing
to sit so shaped in the head and hands
all of its shimmer its slide its positioning
that follows with this ease and breath
easing itself out into the other thing
it is closed together closing opening
give give this itself is time and time's slow climate
and then only the next moment
but open all of your places
on/off press here this here these are things
that are fishes that dream through us here this
is a soft anvil upon which we loll and wind
here are cats and birds rolling out their things
to be known to be known to me
all of me your flickering back its reptile flick
of catenary sloughs off
..............................rain
[along which my earthing only]
that lift and heave and slump
its sudden shake of electric downs
our own sea creatures now stark
live in the arrival of summer frets
here on the spread of day spread
under arches of heather low
as breaking this is the sea's weave
it is the clam's clutch deep and high
and high and mid-high rearing purple
flowers up from the storm these lows
grasp fossil forces night forces up
.......up from the loam and intake
as kestrels in the moment break off
then see again and re-engage
.........................seeing harder
hissing and whirring no more stop stop
then only then only
................the stoop
.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
really the technic stigma
as if the whole world could be shoved
into greater or lesser meaning he advances
with a club in each hand dripping from the throttle
now I and YOU is angry he states
there by the canal
as if a starry sacrifice had been made
he jumps
the world the world
reels out in his wake
as if as if nothing
further
don't you get it
a giraffe walked on the highway
nothing changed
everything in its infancy
looked back
said NO
all over hives
in earnest proportions
bread
arose
.
into greater or lesser meaning he advances
with a club in each hand dripping from the throttle
now I and YOU is angry he states
there by the canal
as if a starry sacrifice had been made
he jumps
the world the world
reels out in his wake
as if as if nothing
further
don't you get it
a giraffe walked on the highway
nothing changed
everything in its infancy
looked back
said NO
all over hives
in earnest proportions
bread
arose
.
Catholicon
I have carefully read over this Little Volume for Children and have found nothing whatever in it contrary to the doctrines of Holy Faith; but, on the contrary, a great deal to charm, instruct, and edify our youthful classes, for whose benefit it has been written
—William Meagher, Vicar General, Dublin, December 14, 1855
The fourth dungeon is the boiling kettle
listen there is a sound
like that of a kettle boiling the blood
the blood is boiling in the scalded brains of that boy
the brain is bubbling in his head
the marrow is bubbling in his bones
the fifth dungeon is the red-hot oven
in which is a little child
hear how it screams to come out
see how it turns and twists itself about
in the fire it beats its head
against the roof of the oven
it stamps its feet upon the floor
of the oven
(outflarfed from the Roman Catholic Book for Children by Reverend J. Furniss, may he live in righteousness)
.
—William Meagher, Vicar General, Dublin, December 14, 1855
The fourth dungeon is the boiling kettle
listen there is a sound
like that of a kettle boiling the blood
the blood is boiling in the scalded brains of that boy
the brain is bubbling in his head
the marrow is bubbling in his bones
the fifth dungeon is the red-hot oven
in which is a little child
hear how it screams to come out
see how it turns and twists itself about
in the fire it beats its head
against the roof of the oven
it stamps its feet upon the floor
of the oven
(outflarfed from the Roman Catholic Book for Children by Reverend J. Furniss, may he live in righteousness)
.
tennis shoes alert ish
I wish it was different there
I wish I could sit all night
stroking your hair
in some dim light
that you would wake and smile
pull me down
into your defile
your place behind the town
I wish
squish
like licorice
fish
ish
.
I wish I could sit all night
stroking your hair
in some dim light
that you would wake and smile
pull me down
into your defile
your place behind the town
I wish
squish
like licorice
fish
ish
.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
rough guide
ugg a catastrophic scarab
a dung beetle
my cigarettes just crashed
rattling upon the floor
the world flew all into pieces
the chair legs
the windows
collapsed
sent us rolling
in the surf and the roar
the skegs did doze
like fleeces
prolapsed under the tolling
if I was an Arab
I'd say the street'll
get you hashed
battling for more
there were weasels
there were weasels
in the verve and uproar
in old dark CaIRO
IN old durk cairO
the fucking divvil I am
he says breathing hard contorts
these late night sorts
old style flicknife in my chin
buy my heroin
give me your cheques
I have no fear
this year
from the polis
mister three trees
mister three
for one
my sister
young boy fuckhash gong
yours taxi moment kung fu blowjob
dark spread spread burger mango juice
you wait
.
a dung beetle
my cigarettes just crashed
rattling upon the floor
the world flew all into pieces
the chair legs
the windows
collapsed
sent us rolling
in the surf and the roar
the skegs did doze
like fleeces
prolapsed under the tolling
if I was an Arab
I'd say the street'll
get you hashed
battling for more
there were weasels
there were weasels
in the verve and uproar
in old dark CaIRO
IN old durk cairO
the fucking divvil I am
he says breathing hard contorts
these late night sorts
old style flicknife in my chin
buy my heroin
give me your cheques
I have no fear
this year
from the polis
mister three trees
mister three
for one
my sister
young boy fuckhash gong
yours taxi moment kung fu blowjob
dark spread spread burger mango juice
you wait
.
Prime Time
I'm applying in advance
for that slot
wondering if you can fit me in
next Thursday
in that hour
between Celebrity Wife Swap
& Big Brother
of course it won't take an hour
but I thought we might chat
afterwards
.
for that slot
wondering if you can fit me in
next Thursday
in that hour
between Celebrity Wife Swap
& Big Brother
of course it won't take an hour
but I thought we might chat
afterwards
.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
politic submarine vision during knee surgery
she wakes
they look down at her
the indignant horror of boys
caught in their mother's purse
red-handed
it's okay she mutters I was out walking in the fields
feeling that curious hole in herself
till the gas starts again
in her mask
.
they look down at her
the indignant horror of boys
caught in their mother's purse
red-handed
it's okay she mutters I was out walking in the fields
feeling that curious hole in herself
till the gas starts again
in her mask
.
Monday, June 08, 2009
fields of owl glass
I have elegised that owl out there
I hear him wail his strix as we speak
sometime last night I knew
he was not a lullaby
he is a warbling madman drained of blood
his beak thick with dried flies
tied to the wheel coming fast across the field
his eyes fixed on soft parts
a shriek out there
he has got the cat
next it's me I know
if I don't make it
to the window
to issue my glow
.
I hear him wail his strix as we speak
sometime last night I knew
he was not a lullaby
he is a warbling madman drained of blood
his beak thick with dried flies
tied to the wheel coming fast across the field
his eyes fixed on soft parts
a shriek out there
he has got the cat
next it's me I know
if I don't make it
to the window
to issue my glow
.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
voice of violet war
put here your illegal ear
to the crystal set
his wartime voice of the hollows calls
Danzig—the Finland Station—Archangel
from tractors in rubble London cat-calling
Enigma coding nickel from The Finns/oil from Ploesti
......... morsing out Ultra
London crawling into its own rats unreal the voice of paper night
sirens overarching stalking Goering's drub...
violet descent gratified
all stations all stations
descent will be gratified
towers of rats escape the thin megaphone
flow down into an underworld
that wafts out a stench of its new organs
at Saint Pancras at the King's Cross
all-atlantic emergency
from Hut 9 Hut 10 unknown
maybe it's because I'm
so many children now laugh in new rubber faces
not hearing these glass these fog signals fly in
from the North Sea pinned across fuel oil fires
on vast maps lights that burn and disappear
as the pieces are swept from the table
weather report from location X12T set fair homeward
into the cold alive moment
frozen in the warm moment
all stopped held tight the thin voice
the moment
that says let us go then you
Queen Mary ship of dreams coming
over rooftops at night
at night at black midday
solve et coagula Saint Paul's in the smoke
report fire here light and not light and light there look
every light in its own water not yet the nigredo or the yellowing
so many of us just quietly borne away
little fires at sea
gone out
to the crystal set
his wartime voice of the hollows calls
Danzig—the Finland Station—Archangel
from tractors in rubble London cat-calling
Enigma coding nickel from The Finns/oil from Ploesti
......... morsing out Ultra
London crawling into its own rats unreal the voice of paper night
sirens overarching stalking Goering's drub...
violet descent gratified
all stations all stations
descent will be gratified
towers of rats escape the thin megaphone
flow down into an underworld
that wafts out a stench of its new organs
at Saint Pancras at the King's Cross
all-atlantic emergency
from Hut 9 Hut 10 unknown
maybe it's because I'm
so many children now laugh in new rubber faces
not hearing these glass these fog signals fly in
from the North Sea pinned across fuel oil fires
on vast maps lights that burn and disappear
as the pieces are swept from the table
weather report from location X12T set fair homeward
into the cold alive moment
frozen in the warm moment
all stopped held tight the thin voice
the moment
that says let us go then you
Queen Mary ship of dreams coming
over rooftops at night
at night at black midday
solve et coagula Saint Paul's in the smoke
report fire here light and not light and light there look
every light in its own water not yet the nigredo or the yellowing
so many of us just quietly borne away
little fires at sea
gone out
Modernism under the sirens paralysed
he says a mother's love is guaranteed
is instinctual but mine is not
a father's love must be earned
it is not innate is not certain
he looks down at his young son
as he says this thing
his son who will not grasp this moment
and though he feels its wind through him
will arrive at its meaning only gradually
when it has done its work
too late to unpick
will know only then
how a strand of his life
was pulled out
a story was flung struggling into the fire
a script was written
in a dark tongue
sending him down slowly some dark culvert
under dim gaslight to learn brutally
that such denied love
was never a cause for such regret
that its denial was the only gift given
by the one who couldn't give
.
is instinctual but mine is not
a father's love must be earned
it is not innate is not certain
he looks down at his young son
as he says this thing
his son who will not grasp this moment
and though he feels its wind through him
will arrive at its meaning only gradually
when it has done its work
too late to unpick
will know only then
how a strand of his life
was pulled out
a story was flung struggling into the fire
a script was written
in a dark tongue
sending him down slowly some dark culvert
under dim gaslight to learn brutally
that such denied love
was never a cause for such regret
that its denial was the only gift given
by the one who couldn't give
.
Friday, June 05, 2009
mad caskets
that sniff of orgone
when you drop it
Madagascar
lemurs tiptoe
all of us had to smile
at the pirates
wading in
over the mussel beds
cutting up their feet
singing as they came on
sitting picking shell
from their toes
not even stopping
to catch
the shining shellfish
that floated like jokes
at their feet
we cried these guy
are murder drum slo-weep for my soft pig
.
.
when you drop it
Madagascar
lemurs tiptoe
all of us had to smile
at the pirates
wading in
over the mussel beds
cutting up their feet
singing as they came on
sitting picking shell
from their toes
not even stopping
to catch
the shining shellfish
that floated like jokes
at their feet
we cried these guy
are murder drum slo-weep for my soft pig
.
.
god of the white people
it's not just the cigarettes
the alcohol
it's more that your head
has just floated away
that you have turned into
some sort of owl cartoon
even here at these temperatures
on these submerged stones
things cling
of course
it amazes all of us
we all comment upon it during the walk
across the seabed
to meet your many-armed mother
at it again
with the gardener
in her basalt caverns
.
the alcohol
it's more that your head
has just floated away
that you have turned into
some sort of owl cartoon
even here at these temperatures
on these submerged stones
things cling
of course
it amazes all of us
we all comment upon it during the walk
across the seabed
to meet your many-armed mother
at it again
with the gardener
in her basalt caverns
.
owl car toon
sidewalk they mill themselves
to a hiphop waft low-hung buttock sun
in the sudden sun suddenly
a fatass convertible slowly sudding with sunlight
drifts by driven by the drooling owls
alla them hooting out drear derision
to the sidewalking crab crew
oh my sheer godman it's another
driveby hooting incident
.
to a hiphop waft low-hung buttock sun
in the sudden sun suddenly
a fatass convertible slowly sudding with sunlight
drifts by driven by the drooling owls
alla them hooting out drear derision
to the sidewalking crab crew
oh my sheer godman it's another
driveby hooting incident
.
upjets of the scoot plitic
there in the market
he burns himself
whittles down
with his own teeth
his heft
I have come to be honest
I am not arrogant
see me before you unarmoured
I smile like a facebook on drugs
my girl-smile my garden unfolded
I am all such pink in a heavy suit
there in the market watched
he burns he whittles he is not
a Buddhist monk this is not
that burning
only a death of a thousand tics
a string accompaniment
of mass public bukkake
.
.
he burns himself
whittles down
with his own teeth
his heft
I have come to be honest
I am not arrogant
see me before you unarmoured
I smile like a facebook on drugs
my girl-smile my garden unfolded
I am all such pink in a heavy suit
there in the market watched
he burns he whittles he is not
a Buddhist monk this is not
that burning
only a death of a thousand tics
a string accompaniment
of mass public bukkake
.
.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
melas zomos episode 1 (to William Fairbrother)
there's no love out there in politics
this ashtray is a startling affair
the ash-rabbit who watches at dawn
is not the same rabbit who you once knew
my parents were old when they first ate beans
by firelight
Elvis and Bing both slid
we are all of us stuffed with the unrecognisable
events coming down from hills
unacceptable though it seems{Hue][Hue][reas][on]
unwields all
secondary sexual parts existing in part
because people like to look at them
the man is furniture and not furniture
he waits all day for a phone to alert him
to the basic event
of his own sad clothing
on fire
you would not run into that building
I might do it if someone loved me enough
I am a hero bringing out prostrate children-women
beaks full of writhing fry
O in my heart I wear such aurora
of the elliptic fuck that everyway
firepeople have entered myth eek sith what now what now?
they are now endowed with the power of flight is it flite
you have a metal detector
people say bad things about you for this reason
others jumped from the sky
rather than burn all day
none of us will guarantee everlasting love
that's just an intoxicated lie
none of us will hold the hands
of people with burning hands
all of us are hands
burning to be held
these trees were not here
before the burn
yesterday when you jumped
burning into words
into
.
this ashtray is a startling affair
the ash-rabbit who watches at dawn
is not the same rabbit who you once knew
my parents were old when they first ate beans
by firelight
Elvis and Bing both slid
we are all of us stuffed with the unrecognisable
events coming down from hills
unacceptable though it seems{Hue][Hue][reas][on]
unwields all
secondary sexual parts existing in part
because people like to look at them
the man is furniture and not furniture
he waits all day for a phone to alert him
to the basic event
of his own sad clothing
on fire
you would not run into that building
I might do it if someone loved me enough
I am a hero bringing out prostrate children-women
beaks full of writhing fry
O in my heart I wear such aurora
of the elliptic fuck that everyway
firepeople have entered myth eek sith what now what now?
they are now endowed with the power of flight is it flite
you have a metal detector
people say bad things about you for this reason
others jumped from the sky
rather than burn all day
none of us will guarantee everlasting love
that's just an intoxicated lie
none of us will hold the hands
of people with burning hands
all of us are hands
burning to be held
these trees were not here
before the burn
yesterday when you jumped
burning into words
into
.
Monday, June 01, 2009
undead words whispered at grope lane
but in the mouth of a lover
what better word
in your ear
in your moment
this word unspeakable
this soft exciting word
this way into all our things shared
not an insult
only an invitation and a cry
fuck let it ring
its tender magical description
its aperture its opening
over the night
let it glow down
its pink light
fucking-word
sharing-word
adult-word
the only word of power
we have left
.
what better word
in your ear
in your moment
this word unspeakable
this soft exciting word
this way into all our things shared
not an insult
only an invitation and a cry
fuck let it ring
its tender magical description
its aperture its opening
over the night
let it glow down
its pink light
fucking-word
sharing-word
adult-word
the only word of power
we have left
.
mother of the raingod
the sickness is a gravel rain
in the throat
bursting alive/dead
shoving tears from any
conduit such perseverance
backing itself into secondary
sickness stand here now and look
someone after all will like you
this new Spring is a bright rain
over the garden you are not choking
this is rain that you can feel
even from deep in there this rain
is coloured is warm
but over the rising smoke
the banging bell butts at such jokes
the fell falls on your emptying
chambers their empty wells
your throat dry from such hard laughing
.
in the throat
bursting alive/dead
shoving tears from any
conduit such perseverance
backing itself into secondary
sickness stand here now and look
someone after all will like you
this new Spring is a bright rain
over the garden you are not choking
this is rain that you can feel
even from deep in there this rain
is coloured is warm
but over the rising smoke
the banging bell butts at such jokes
the fell falls on your emptying
chambers their empty wells
your throat dry from such hard laughing
.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
fruchtnoten: the crunch of chitin body parts
how summer was a great orange beetle
spreading itself on the landmaking it sweat making haymaking
men coat themselves making whirring flecks
all dead as doors shake white shake with it
the house of dreams
the obsolete work of making and shaking
all dead as doors shake white shake with it
the house of dreams
the obsolete work of making and shaking
hay that shone in the mouths
of the giant cattle
there by the wet ...................................................................................or dry river
of which we did not speak
with such mouths stuffed with hay
of how a man who went into a bar hollow with thieves
said what do you call a parrot
with three beaks
how all of it like that
will fade gibbering fixation
upon body parts
here because death
with three beaks
how all of it like that
will fade gibbering fixation
upon body parts
here because death
lonely death knows love better &, uh, wetter
now all your hollows will speak again
.
dolls in the attic
trees shake in low light
words poems I slept with
fragmented upon waking
into things I couldn't
get to work
birds were there
not singing
peering out
strangers
in the lower branches
where the foliage
was thick
all of it shattered and silent
menace
.
words poems I slept with
fragmented upon waking
into things I couldn't
get to work
birds were there
not singing
peering out
strangers
in the lower branches
where the foliage
was thick
all of it shattered and silent
menace
.
Latin thrush
in Yorvik are some copralites
rich in frozen parasites
wholesome bran there also ran
in those historic Viking shites
.
rich in frozen parasites
wholesome bran there also ran
in those historic Viking shites
.
now shut up and do it
get a load of this
while it's still free motherhead a rapture
with which a teenager claws his first
is it after all you that sends me these messages
while I sleep? no that is some turtle fantasy
of irises of wet erections bursting
in bed so bloody so ugly in breakage
listen now to these trees in early summer light
midnight has not taken
meaning from them
you are a woken cannibal at prayer
starting like hares standing my senses
spring
why all of this is so young
why I gladly roll into you
dream figure at the end
of silhouette alleys singing
swells and ways and swells within
.
.
while it's still free motherhead a rapture
with which a teenager claws his first
is it after all you that sends me these messages
while I sleep? no that is some turtle fantasy
of irises of wet erections bursting
in bed so bloody so ugly in breakage
listen now to these trees in early summer light
midnight has not taken
meaning from them
you are a woken cannibal at prayer
starting like hares standing my senses
spring
why all of this is so young
why I gladly roll into you
dream figure at the end
of silhouette alleys singing
swells and ways and swells within
.
.
Friday, May 29, 2009
shrink
drag him into the woods
this scared boy
beat him
call him names
tie him to a tree
pour on the petrol
by now he is begging
crying
do it, pour it on
play with it
there is nothing in you
that can stop this now
get your lighter out
light him up
whoof
stand back
watch, listen
even you will be wide-eyed now
in this shrieking incendiary moment
how long does it take
for the screams to stop?
only a minute, probably
now you can go forward
to this better life
free of this irritant
you have felled your adversary
you have buried him
in shallow loam
you have conquered
you are free
you are the sound
of one hand clapping
in a woodland fire
.
.
this scared boy
beat him
call him names
tie him to a tree
pour on the petrol
by now he is begging
crying
do it, pour it on
play with it
there is nothing in you
that can stop this now
get your lighter out
light him up
whoof
stand back
watch, listen
even you will be wide-eyed now
in this shrieking incendiary moment
how long does it take
for the screams to stop?
only a minute, probably
now you can go forward
to this better life
free of this irritant
you have felled your adversary
you have buried him
in shallow loam
you have conquered
you are free
you are the sound
of one hand clapping
in a woodland fire
.
.
cows of a the causeway
Ross point wide open to common slap
back skerrs cow-samphire to the swab the granary the snook
waders look the puffin ternburrows overarch nessending
here a deaded whale a heave of keel heads
the sandham the sand ham the holy head braes
shivering chapel, bride's hole, cockly knowes
aloft broaches allover allmouth squalls of reeled sandeels
from oyster scaps neaped without a flood-end we have it
burrowed as cow-caving Cuthberts on the causeway
of the sea's waste Jack's waste sand's waste south lows
at long batt a seacow levelling troughs
seaweeding of a heading reach into the guile
the stiel of parton and fold soft transports caught out late
beneath the laddered outer safeties
of the skate road at neely and madge sea campion
all dead reckoned the midnight at three tide-race welled
back again curling as wave-cows into the cush-place
of holy island and all at slow sussurating cow-claps
of harbour itself harboured gathered and held face
as only whipping dawn would elapse
.
back skerrs cow-samphire to the swab the granary the snook
waders look the puffin ternburrows overarch nessending
here a deaded whale a heave of keel heads
the sandham the sand ham the holy head braes
shivering chapel, bride's hole, cockly knowes
aloft broaches allover allmouth squalls of reeled sandeels
from oyster scaps neaped without a flood-end we have it
burrowed as cow-caving Cuthberts on the causeway
of the sea's waste Jack's waste sand's waste south lows
at long batt a seacow levelling troughs
seaweeding of a heading reach into the guile
the stiel of parton and fold soft transports caught out late
beneath the laddered outer safeties
of the skate road at neely and madge sea campion
all dead reckoned the midnight at three tide-race welled
back again curling as wave-cows into the cush-place
of holy island and all at slow sussurating cow-claps
of harbour itself harboured gathered and held face
as only whipping dawn would elapse
.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
grey mist heads off archaic daylight
to the thuawking spring of jackdaws
at dawn
as if only this mattered
how now they cry and try
a gormless silence battered
to a longing squawk
a cartoon-reared auk
of some council tattered
of beaks that hang fry
festooned and scattered
close-lorn
to an awkward ring of slack jaws
.
.
at dawn
as if only this mattered
how now they cry and try
a gormless silence battered
to a longing squawk
a cartoon-reared auk
of some council tattered
of beaks that hang fry
festooned and scattered
close-lorn
to an awkward ring of slack jaws
.
.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
a walking Emily
sacred sacred Emily is not a rose but rather
...................a hole in which no rose is a rose
but is not anyway a rose
..................................................but rather
the evanescent shove of the but
that stops you from further growth
all senses ..............paralysed and overtaken
at the proximity of this vacuum/language
it is a moment in which
...................................nothing just nothing
not even potential or difference
look into this ........................ for it is startling
in all its vivid shriek of unknown absence
it is only that place where you have not grown
it is not a hole but only a hole in possibility
...............no hole at all for it has no substance
within which to hole it is just the stop the cessation
of that which has not started there are no gasps
no flavours only the child of you looking down
from below seeing its own .............................outline
and nothing within it
................................................that corresponds
only projections live here in this only imagined
where your next imperative stamps at dawn
forever uneven off balance Emily shifts
........................................................quiet
her head her head her blueblack upripped head
into your pale moment in the mirror wind wind
go home wind go before the end has passed
under wet grass at morning shimmer your holy
holy .............................................................. tail
.
.
.
...................a hole in which no rose is a rose
but is not anyway a rose
..................................................but rather
the evanescent shove of the but
that stops you from further growth
all senses ..............paralysed and overtaken
at the proximity of this vacuum/language
it is a moment in which
...................................nothing just nothing
not even potential or difference
look into this ........................ for it is startling
in all its vivid shriek of unknown absence
it is only that place where you have not grown
it is not a hole but only a hole in possibility
...............no hole at all for it has no substance
within which to hole it is just the stop the cessation
of that which has not started there are no gasps
no flavours only the child of you looking down
from below seeing its own .............................outline
and nothing within it
................................................that corresponds
only projections live here in this only imagined
where your next imperative stamps at dawn
forever uneven off balance Emily shifts
........................................................quiet
her head her head her blueblack upripped head
into your pale moment in the mirror wind wind
go home wind go before the end has passed
under wet grass at morning shimmer your holy
holy .............................................................. tail
.
.
.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
a flicker into flux
so from this the stream issues
its fascinating tide
sometimes this or that
I have focused upon your salience
but really I mean
some sort of overall engagement
is no diminution
I suppose is what
I meant to say
to you at dawn in the still firelight
like the sky presses down
can I do that also
I mean can we get serious here
for a moment
can we just stop
and get upended
with each other
can we transpose and uncurl
all of our meaning
into another saxophone entirely?
.
.
its fascinating tide
sometimes this or that
I have focused upon your salience
but really I mean
some sort of overall engagement
is no diminution
I suppose is what
I meant to say
to you at dawn in the still firelight
like the sky presses down
can I do that also
I mean can we get serious here
for a moment
can we just stop
and get upended
with each other
can we transpose and uncurl
all of our meaning
into another saxophone entirely?
.
.
Hauser Windsock
no one was more doggedly aware than she that a revolution
of some quiet sort had occurred through not least
her own daughter in law which consciousness was written into
the expression upon her own currency from which
she regarded her people with the mild hatred of a mother
watching a dog drown in her toilet
her son himself of an unconvinced on all levels canine
species given to early baldness and similar acts
of emotional drowning unhappily divested of the power
to behead and rape at will to shore his genetically resentful
demeanour must content himself with peevish
assaults upon architecture and farming both
lands which he has colonised and now squats upon
straining ruddily to purge himself of the bloody
she-god in whose shade he still flounders his silly grin
attempts at gravitas and exaggerated sensory apparatus
as recognisable testament to his Hanoverian lineage
as his enthusiasm for a good sausage and a flat joke still
they hunt foxes as though it were a duty to be seen
to be pursuing at least some of the subjects
after which the rubbing on of blood and the taking
of a nip or two in these rites are they allowed
to look at themselves with pleasure and pride
steaming there a little flushed and lordly astride
some large animals of roughly similar intellect
and political persuasion O to be allowed the levity
to be monarchical again to talk indignantly to trees
to piss purple piss to scheme and connive and talk
of Spain but the first war stopped all that that family
feud that killed off the Wettins and Goths
the Saxe-Cobourg Gothas these halos were shed in shame
Philip Battenberg came running still Greek back then
to embrace the Elizabethan proboscis he's so English now he
would insult himself if he could just remember who he was
amidst all the tampons and slitty-eyed squidgy sense of occasion
it's all so arch isn't it all just so arch so they creak and crark
they mutter they roil in their hobwebs driving slow the last
crested landrover into some lingering comic seizure
.
of some quiet sort had occurred through not least
her own daughter in law which consciousness was written into
the expression upon her own currency from which
she regarded her people with the mild hatred of a mother
watching a dog drown in her toilet
her son himself of an unconvinced on all levels canine
species given to early baldness and similar acts
of emotional drowning unhappily divested of the power
to behead and rape at will to shore his genetically resentful
demeanour must content himself with peevish
assaults upon architecture and farming both
lands which he has colonised and now squats upon
straining ruddily to purge himself of the bloody
she-god in whose shade he still flounders his silly grin
attempts at gravitas and exaggerated sensory apparatus
as recognisable testament to his Hanoverian lineage
as his enthusiasm for a good sausage and a flat joke still
they hunt foxes as though it were a duty to be seen
to be pursuing at least some of the subjects
after which the rubbing on of blood and the taking
of a nip or two in these rites are they allowed
to look at themselves with pleasure and pride
steaming there a little flushed and lordly astride
some large animals of roughly similar intellect
and political persuasion O to be allowed the levity
to be monarchical again to talk indignantly to trees
to piss purple piss to scheme and connive and talk
of Spain but the first war stopped all that that family
feud that killed off the Wettins and Goths
the Saxe-Cobourg Gothas these halos were shed in shame
Philip Battenberg came running still Greek back then
to embrace the Elizabethan proboscis he's so English now he
would insult himself if he could just remember who he was
amidst all the tampons and slitty-eyed squidgy sense of occasion
it's all so arch isn't it all just so arch so they creak and crark
they mutter they roil in their hobwebs driving slow the last
crested landrover into some lingering comic seizure
.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
cloud/depression/halo/rapture/flock
cloud
moorland intake
float away
distance
this soft shift of air
longitude
falling
discharged of all
wide
spread nimbus
if you should
me there
thing of air
vapour feel free
to katabat
in zones
of asperatus
I'll be lost
in need
of
cumulative guidance
umma
undulatus
rising below
billows atomic rain
rain
dry cool
snuff
float boulders
heather whirs
lone cloudheft
dream it out
bite soft anabat
bite slow wet
upon high
low
lovecloud
.
.
moorland intake
float away
distance
this soft shift of air
longitude
falling
discharged of all
wide
spread nimbus
if you should
me there
thing of air
vapour feel free
to katabat
in zones
of asperatus
I'll be lost
in need
of
cumulative guidance
umma
undulatus
rising below
billows atomic rain
rain
dry cool
snuff
float boulders
heather whirs
lone cloudheft
dream it out
bite soft anabat
bite slow wet
upon high
low
lovecloud
.
.
at you
his face was a book
in which you could read
quite clearly
once upon a time
and the end
all the other pages
had fallen out
through his nose
during a violent sneeze
.
.
in which you could read
quite clearly
once upon a time
and the end
all the other pages
had fallen out
through his nose
during a violent sneeze
.
.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Milton-Homer stirs a blind beard broth
brooding all night the beard squatted
until out from it a man grew
whirled in birthstorms
he lengthened and stiffened
grew pale grew smooth
dried in alkaline winds
swept up the wrack-clung coast
morning flung him there
dry deserted by beards
keen as his saintly vascularity
to eat and embrace O how
in such ways did love evolve
these giants who wish now
to eat at your polyps?
you're a walking beard
and the hat it chewed
.
.
until out from it a man grew
whirled in birthstorms
he lengthened and stiffened
grew pale grew smooth
dried in alkaline winds
swept up the wrack-clung coast
morning flung him there
dry deserted by beards
keen as his saintly vascularity
to eat and embrace O how
in such ways did love evolve
these giants who wish now
to eat at your polyps?
you're a walking beard
and the hat it chewed
.
.
a balance stricken
your vampire lover wants now to enter you
a good thing in the way this is
as invasion and disease are good also
passion and certainty they bring
imagine yourself free from here all doubt
doubled up in the morning
worshipping
him in there wrapped around
your bowels like a baby sucking on
your spleen for sweet juices
your own dear tapeworm
making love just to you
only so does he care for intimacy
in your waves of expulsion he
—convulsed in squeaking sinks
these must be the throes of passion
he thinks
.
.
a good thing in the way this is
as invasion and disease are good also
passion and certainty they bring
imagine yourself free from here all doubt
doubled up in the morning
worshipping
him in there wrapped around
your bowels like a baby sucking on
your spleen for sweet juices
your own dear tapeworm
making love just to you
only so does he care for intimacy
in your waves of expulsion he
—convulsed in squeaking sinks
these must be the throes of passion
he thinks
.
.
Monday, May 11, 2009
The Daily Mash on MP's expenses:
http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/politics/politics-headlines/it's-the-system-that's-a-piece%1...
http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/politics/politics-headlines/it's-the-system-that's-a-piece%1...
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Moral animal husbandry and aesthetics in late sculpture
to every breath a little gag
you clown ........you are not high on this cardboard
you eat so avidly your throat stuffed with bats
come on now come on settle down this woman
will tire of group sex with your parents soon enough
then she'll be yours again
wait by the river watch the moon
if times are lean you will learn to dive
for pike and spiny perch
these things will get you through
here is a book of poetry to incant
to the night river
fish will offer themselves to you
................refuse them all with disgust
they have scales and are unskilled
...........................in the arts of love
if vengeance is in your heart
creep to the house and steal a young dog
bestow upon it a father's name
hurl it into the river as bait
then wait in righteousness
silent and alone in your power
not everyone can be the Buddha
still as moonlit river-hares
........................with a Glock aloft
.
.
you clown ........you are not high on this cardboard
you eat so avidly your throat stuffed with bats
come on now come on settle down this woman
will tire of group sex with your parents soon enough
then she'll be yours again
wait by the river watch the moon
if times are lean you will learn to dive
for pike and spiny perch
these things will get you through
here is a book of poetry to incant
to the night river
fish will offer themselves to you
................refuse them all with disgust
they have scales and are unskilled
...........................in the arts of love
if vengeance is in your heart
creep to the house and steal a young dog
bestow upon it a father's name
hurl it into the river as bait
then wait in righteousness
silent and alone in your power
not everyone can be the Buddha
still as moonlit river-hares
........................with a Glock aloft
.
.
(E)-3-Methyl-2-Hexenoic Acid
this dairy taste of grieving is creeping in me
I am rotten milk at dawn sweeping
over hillsides some signal ghosting up a fetch
ancestors perhaps but O the stench in the back
of the many throats of goats and pasteurisation
itself reason enough to see clear into tomorrow
in iced packages I have no longer a bovine heritage
he sat next to me all day his big teeth his eyes
lk hr i no everthng h sez lk such a streak of meds
falling about him we caper there together
until the driver demands we get off the roof
get back inside for there are people in the hills
such behaviour has already compromised us slick
we are unlikely to make it now past the next rise
he seems meaningless though and we pine into & up
up a lost dreamflick of sunlight through speeding trees
but that red stench coming on we will have to settle
somewhere where there is at least water or the dust of it
something anyway to flush out the crawlers
already are clung to the windows licks at our eyes
.
.
I am rotten milk at dawn sweeping
over hillsides some signal ghosting up a fetch
ancestors perhaps but O the stench in the back
of the many throats of goats and pasteurisation
itself reason enough to see clear into tomorrow
in iced packages I have no longer a bovine heritage
he sat next to me all day his big teeth his eyes
lk hr i no everthng h sez lk such a streak of meds
falling about him we caper there together
until the driver demands we get off the roof
get back inside for there are people in the hills
such behaviour has already compromised us slick
we are unlikely to make it now past the next rise
he seems meaningless though and we pine into & up
up a lost dreamflick of sunlight through speeding trees
but that red stench coming on we will have to settle
somewhere where there is at least water or the dust of it
something anyway to flush out the crawlers
already are clung to the windows licks at our eyes
.
.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
wielding wild weird words she unearths new lovers
scheduled outrage at 2am again
now I have to address the courage
the vitality the deviant tenacity
which enables the firing up
of those abilities whereby
when confronted with gags
allow still the overall reflex
this is no mean charade
it is in anyone's register a thing
to invite respect and awe
now let's see him do it again
under this waving tree
near dawn a motorcycle noise
of frogs mating in shrinking
tractor tracks flooded good god
they think these are little worlds
why am I here at the death
watching the last thrash
of this but just imagine imagine
if you were this and I were that
we'd both be wet with each other
crarking all night in a muddy rut
stuffed with amphibian hubris
O I'd touch you here like this
and you would creak right back
our love would die right there
with the Sun through its crack
.
.
now I have to address the courage
the vitality the deviant tenacity
which enables the firing up
of those abilities whereby
when confronted with gags
allow still the overall reflex
this is no mean charade
it is in anyone's register a thing
to invite respect and awe
now let's see him do it again
under this waving tree
near dawn a motorcycle noise
of frogs mating in shrinking
tractor tracks flooded good god
they think these are little worlds
why am I here at the death
watching the last thrash
of this but just imagine imagine
if you were this and I were that
we'd both be wet with each other
crarking all night in a muddy rut
stuffed with amphibian hubris
O I'd touch you here like this
and you would creak right back
our love would die right there
with the Sun through its crack
.
.
Friday, May 08, 2009
essential modern poems
I won't suck your feet during sex
I'm not a princess
there is a glow worm residing
at the foot of the bed
I can't go there now
at night you talk in my sleeping
ear of respiration how you can't
just can't find it in you
that's okay I already ran off with
the beans
the cat
the old records
planted them by the pond
I expect shimmering gravity
to do the rest
.
.
I'm not a princess
there is a glow worm residing
at the foot of the bed
I can't go there now
at night you talk in my sleeping
ear of respiration how you can't
just can't find it in you
that's okay I already ran off with
the beans
the cat
the old records
planted them by the pond
I expect shimmering gravity
to do the rest
.
.
Return to Everything Else
move forward don't move back nor sideways don't evade this while it continues move a little from side to side as though finding just the right position the right responses as though this is pleasant don't feel it in your head feel it in your gut don't think about it feel it all over spread out from it keep moving keep moving in physical limitation is no barrier to moving closer in like this like rain on a hillside like rain like Zen in the reeds nothing to it everything to it if nothing else could be done it would be enough
Return to Everything Else
.
Return to Everything Else
.
untitled picture on the news
a little blonde boy
in a bright blue sweater
reaches up to the camera
he's not dead at this point
he's not smiling
but not unhappy
occupied with something
standing on black and white tiles
not sinking just standing
looking at something
out of view
like all children curious
eager about everything
he's not dead here
not tortured
just looking up reaching
some adult looking down
stop here
stop
.
.
in a bright blue sweater
reaches up to the camera
he's not dead at this point
he's not smiling
but not unhappy
occupied with something
standing on black and white tiles
not sinking just standing
looking at something
out of view
like all children curious
eager about everything
he's not dead here
not tortured
just looking up reaching
some adult looking down
stop here
stop
.
.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
hand grenade diagnosis by storm
some cluster of vibe-necessity vegetation
attack into the near ass limestone
get you up all night
from your dream
halfway hardon drumming up
only a little disease no big deal here
all night in the TV light
no fear she ain't doing that to me
backended man-woman
in extreme laying position
get unreal quick
one little drowning
don't make it so
.
.
attack into the near ass limestone
get you up all night
from your dream
halfway hardon drumming up
only a little disease no big deal here
all night in the TV light
no fear she ain't doing that to me
backended man-woman
in extreme laying position
get unreal quick
one little drowning
don't make it so
.
.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
the libido theory
(love has also increments)
the libido itself a shimmer a hue
.................and a cry
................of many voices
a tactical deployment
an influx along the frontier
at night in winter
............dispatches from outside
watching without watching
anyway the fluctuations
the interlateral marketplace
Reich and Freud all that time
dipping.dipping.going down
the flick of Brownian Motion
life in the spasm the random walk
see I fell down in wonder
watching them pitch their tents
in his dawn of nothing
that all significators are plural
so it is in the gasp
of atomy but then particle dysphasia
your orgastic potency itself a clusterfuck
split this now this sheer poetic tell is again
just such a mustering of quiet
gathered for the gathering
of the gathering of the fathering that is
that assemblage
of love don't look here for
singularities of orgone & libido
there are only river deltas
................endocrine systems
brimming with lymph-ichor
stark gathered
...............only measure this
by everything
measure it by
bust its clouds no why no
a reverse cancer
gathering of the gathering
not surrendering not giving up
I am only trying to be here
all over
emergency measures screwed into face
I understand
& I wish to continue
.
.
.
the libido itself a shimmer a hue
.................and a cry
................of many voices
a tactical deployment
an influx along the frontier
at night in winter
............dispatches from outside
watching without watching
anyway the fluctuations
the interlateral marketplace
Reich and Freud all that time
dipping.dipping.going down
the flick of Brownian Motion
life in the spasm the random walk
see I fell down in wonder
watching them pitch their tents
in his dawn of nothing
that all significators are plural
so it is in the gasp
of atomy but then particle dysphasia
your orgastic potency itself a clusterfuck
split this now this sheer poetic tell is again
just such a mustering of quiet
gathered for the gathering
of the gathering of the fathering that is
that assemblage
of love don't look here for
singularities of orgone & libido
there are only river deltas
................endocrine systems
brimming with lymph-ichor
stark gathered
...............only measure this
by everything
measure it by
bust its clouds no why no
a reverse cancer
gathering of the gathering
not surrendering not giving up
I am only trying to be here
all over
emergency measures screwed into face
I understand
& I wish to continue
.
.
.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
some unfinished boatflarf
Hear we have for sale
a 27 footed 4 berth plexiglass rabid cruiser
it is being sold as an unfinished object
which needs very little cosmetic work to compete
it is the ideal winter project
Comes complete with a semi-legal, fully braked, 4 wheel trailer.
Powered out by a Perkins 4108 fully marinised
diesel engine connected to an Enfield Z Drive.
Navigation lights the sky ahead, Ships radio each to each,
a new compass comes with this,
depth finder/fish finder/find finder, all fenders,
new anchor and ankle chain, 12 volt automatic bilge.
It has onboard cocks (2 ring with oven and grill),
sinking unit, gas or water heater, many sea toilets,
radio/cd player and 12 volt
lightning throughout.
It requires new cushions seating the lick of saints,
and I have bought a new coupling
for between the engine and Z drive
there is currently no restraint
.
.
a 27 footed 4 berth plexiglass rabid cruiser
it is being sold as an unfinished object
which needs very little cosmetic work to compete
it is the ideal winter project
Comes complete with a semi-legal, fully braked, 4 wheel trailer.
Powered out by a Perkins 4108 fully marinised
diesel engine connected to an Enfield Z Drive.
Navigation lights the sky ahead, Ships radio each to each,
a new compass comes with this,
depth finder/fish finder/find finder, all fenders,
new anchor and ankle chain, 12 volt automatic bilge.
It has onboard cocks (2 ring with oven and grill),
sinking unit, gas or water heater, many sea toilets,
radio/cd player and 12 volt
lightning throughout.
It requires new cushions seating the lick of saints,
and I have bought a new coupling
for between the engine and Z drive
there is currently no restraint
.
.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
A short film about Wilhelm Reich:
http://video.google.com/videosearch?q=wilhelm+reich&emb=0&aq=0&oq=wilhelm+r#
http://video.google.com/videosearch?q=wilhelm+reich&emb=0&aq=0&oq=wilhelm+r#
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
improvised poem
so you are this gurgle underground on the moor at night this blowhole in the peat from which this sound at this time emerges at night on the moor the grouse sound like cartoons at night from their blowholes on the moor where I lie listening to clouds that pass over like satellites so stark against the backlit blue black over the moor stars sky silence of all cosmic blowholes infinity wrung through the startled throat of a bird that just walked into my foot didn't even smell me there hear me breathing like the night breathes gurgles blows sits quiet in its history of heather of gurgling quiet blowing holes streams running beneath old so old as everything that ever ran down from a hill wet and gurgling knowing now this stirring quiet of young antiquity
.
.
.
.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
broad son lit up lands
all through my firewall I feel your hum, my theremin lover
—Madeleine Shine, Vitamins & Electromagnetism (2006)
—Madeleine Shine, Vitamins & Electromagnetism (2006)
antivirals or some such are despatched as outriders to mollify.
an immediate disturbance that may yet locally be mere.
mineral command-politics despite cloud-gatherings which appear.
to be portents in fact of metastasised dreariness.
so insusceptible to software interventions of the sort.
available whereupon to the surprise of the amateur transhuman.
physician-shamans assembled on the screen she sits up suddenly insisting.
upon the precedence of animal parts in all such.
exchanges emphasising several moments in her declamation.
with realworld popups and unders.
expressive of the finality of her assessment and invitation to take part.
to claim a free l a p t o p. it is this finality.
this now motivates him to isolate his circuitry.
log out of backup files and restore the page to a resolution.
from which he can lean forward through the window.
to kiss her and find out for himself.
in what manner and to what purpose.
she iterates.
an immediate disturbance that may yet locally be mere.
mineral command-politics despite cloud-gatherings which appear.
to be portents in fact of metastasised dreariness.
so insusceptible to software interventions of the sort.
available whereupon to the surprise of the amateur transhuman.
physician-shamans assembled on the screen she sits up suddenly insisting.
upon the precedence of animal parts in all such.
exchanges emphasising several moments in her declamation.
with realworld popups and unders.
expressive of the finality of her assessment and invitation to take part.
to claim a free l a p t o p. it is this finality.
this now motivates him to isolate his circuitry.
log out of backup files and restore the page to a resolution.
from which he can lean forward through the window.
to kiss her and find out for himself.
in what manner and to what purpose.
she iterates.
.
.
(Published in Intercapillary Space April 09)
Monday, April 20, 2009
caribou dive dive we have only these moments
does the mind rule the body
or does the body rule the mind
I dunno
—The Smiths
look it's like something reached down
just for fun mangled the machinery
in two seconds of intervention
a two year old child wiping off an equation
it's like forms of energy that can't use
each other do you get that this is what
demons are what gods are they are
the difference the incompatibilities
of scale and form touch this you will
die it's that easy to contact the spirit
world to roll over into upsided for tickling
goddamn there was only one chair in that
room i fell into it almost watching
that bigass submarine huge-nosed
there are so many words
that just don't exist that are just out of reach
a plant on its way out unwatered death
nearby i stared at the ceiling i felt you
close about me close about me
Jane Austen removed all time
from her novels so they could be any time
unstuck pilgrim in a chair looking
skyward into death close about me
the feel of a rat in the mouth
of a rottweiler good god folks
this music hall echoes so loud
they swirl together these organs
by the beach the retirement home
well how exactly do you want to flail
face down in your grey chips
or face up into the plaster ceiling
with the monster eating your head
either way i love powerful love stories
in perfect English Caribou
.
.
or does the body rule the mind
I dunno
—The Smiths
look it's like something reached down
just for fun mangled the machinery
in two seconds of intervention
a two year old child wiping off an equation
it's like forms of energy that can't use
each other do you get that this is what
demons are what gods are they are
the difference the incompatibilities
of scale and form touch this you will
die it's that easy to contact the spirit
world to roll over into upsided for tickling
goddamn there was only one chair in that
room i fell into it almost watching
that bigass submarine huge-nosed
there are so many words
that just don't exist that are just out of reach
a plant on its way out unwatered death
nearby i stared at the ceiling i felt you
close about me close about me
Jane Austen removed all time
from her novels so they could be any time
unstuck pilgrim in a chair looking
skyward into death close about me
the feel of a rat in the mouth
of a rottweiler good god folks
this music hall echoes so loud
they swirl together these organs
by the beach the retirement home
well how exactly do you want to flail
face down in your grey chips
or face up into the plaster ceiling
with the monster eating your head
either way i love powerful love stories
in perfect English Caribou
.
.
temple of ten thousand buddhas
they got them all here the long-armed buddha
the bouncing buddha
the wrathful buddha who makes faces
the mirthful buddha frozen mid-laugh
all in amber plastic
up the track to the temple
where they are burning lucky money
fumes echoing around like feral cats
want to snug with you close up fuck you
in your lungs in the dharma racecourse
of your non-epicanthic tourist bad luck
so what if they demolished the walled city
built a park on top still buddhism is a street thing
a sort of violence against existence against presence
against life yellow ...........plastic buddhas stuck here
one for every state but they ain't .................got mine
i don't see anywhere the laughing crying
sexed up half drunk chainsmoking chainsaw
angry & happy & derailed punk rock razor love
of little birds but wants to kick you right in the ass
heartbroke beatpoem buddha lurking in the bushes
waiting to rush out like a wolverine myth
to hug you all to death he/she just ain't here
must be already gone
walked off into the flowers
& kept walking
never turned around
i only came here for the races anyway
all of them
races like waves
through the body dharma
the smoke races
nothing wins this game but the smoke
.
.
the bouncing buddha
the wrathful buddha who makes faces
the mirthful buddha frozen mid-laugh
all in amber plastic
up the track to the temple
where they are burning lucky money
fumes echoing around like feral cats
want to snug with you close up fuck you
in your lungs in the dharma racecourse
of your non-epicanthic tourist bad luck
so what if they demolished the walled city
built a park on top still buddhism is a street thing
a sort of violence against existence against presence
against life yellow ...........plastic buddhas stuck here
one for every state but they ain't .................got mine
i don't see anywhere the laughing crying
sexed up half drunk chainsmoking chainsaw
angry & happy & derailed punk rock razor love
of little birds but wants to kick you right in the ass
heartbroke beatpoem buddha lurking in the bushes
waiting to rush out like a wolverine myth
to hug you all to death he/she just ain't here
must be already gone
walked off into the flowers
& kept walking
never turned around
i only came here for the races anyway
all of them
races like waves
through the body dharma
the smoke races
nothing wins this game but the smoke
.
.
atavism riff
you have to wake up to it
people have died already
I couldn't place myself anywhere
I had no end to my circuitry
no earthing no plugins
I was nowhere
people died
I didn't know what it meant
I kissed them in their coffins
felt only intermittently through my hubris
my protection
something was stalking me
something from my past
was walking invisibly through the pages
the years
I still can't wake up
every day waking up gets further away
they're still dying like distant shocks
I don't know if they are pieces of me
going out with them
it was written like this early on
in the low roaring that has never stopped
what do you do with these dead people?
you look in their faces, you kiss them
they are mirrors in their purple/black/pink
denatured faces, their dressed bloom
undertaken for us to look upon
their holes wadded and perfumed
they don't reach out to us with anything
but some mute poetry of the unreachable
we thrust ourselves into their embrace
stupidly I still don't know them
these dead people
leading me to the next funeral rites
someone else hit a wall in himself
came to nothing, faded out
in his own ash and stink
hardly worth raising your head for
another drunk fairy no one believed in
went out somewhere
nothing is to be done
the doing was finished long ago
sleep now
no one is watching you turn blue
your wings folded in the dust
under the bed that no one shares
behind the wall
where they have papered over the door
those new people from next week
nothing left to be done
just
.
.
people have died already
I couldn't place myself anywhere
I had no end to my circuitry
no earthing no plugins
I was nowhere
people died
I didn't know what it meant
I kissed them in their coffins
felt only intermittently through my hubris
my protection
something was stalking me
something from my past
was walking invisibly through the pages
the years
I still can't wake up
every day waking up gets further away
they're still dying like distant shocks
I don't know if they are pieces of me
going out with them
it was written like this early on
in the low roaring that has never stopped
what do you do with these dead people?
you look in their faces, you kiss them
they are mirrors in their purple/black/pink
denatured faces, their dressed bloom
undertaken for us to look upon
their holes wadded and perfumed
they don't reach out to us with anything
but some mute poetry of the unreachable
we thrust ourselves into their embrace
stupidly I still don't know them
these dead people
leading me to the next funeral rites
someone else hit a wall in himself
came to nothing, faded out
in his own ash and stink
hardly worth raising your head for
another drunk fairy no one believed in
went out somewhere
nothing is to be done
the doing was finished long ago
sleep now
no one is watching you turn blue
your wings folded in the dust
under the bed that no one shares
behind the wall
where they have papered over the door
those new people from next week
nothing left to be done
just
.
.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
stuff
so my stuff around this was not supported it was left
to rip in the wind of your revelation i couldn't help it
being unsupported unanchored i came loose and attacked
the stuff which was attacking my stuff i haven't got clear
responses to this stuff it makes me out of shape it throws
me back at myself my longing my past you know how stuff
works to disassemble your damn heart & so you (now
unsupported) did the same & soon we were in that place
where everyone speaks a different language as we all fall
together back to shrieks and grunts on the forest floor
with not even a bright canopy to lift us from our own arses
.
.
to rip in the wind of your revelation i couldn't help it
being unsupported unanchored i came loose and attacked
the stuff which was attacking my stuff i haven't got clear
responses to this stuff it makes me out of shape it throws
me back at myself my longing my past you know how stuff
works to disassemble your damn heart & so you (now
unsupported) did the same & soon we were in that place
where everyone speaks a different language as we all fall
together back to shrieks and grunts on the forest floor
with not even a bright canopy to lift us from our own arses
.
.
the only reason for believing is that someone told you it was true
nothing changing is itself an event
happening at a different time like that in fact
an impossibility though something to do
with continuity is appropriate as metaphor
alchemy you know sometimes involved
repetition of the same operation over
& over with nothing changing but the time
i hate to use the quickening thing but some
sense somehow of the eventful continuity
must be present to take it elsewhere go off
tangentially look you idiot if dinosaurs
had shared hunting habitat with humans they
would have been a defining presence
written into every human history not in hints
but large & loud the many deaths the importance
that everyone live behind high walls no one
could live in a hut or a cave Rameses II on his
way to do battle would have seen his army picked off
by vast predators each night & if he did then
he kept it secret so this in itself then becomes
an alchemical thing the repetition the sameness
the fact that i have performed this masturbatory act
six million times & not yet brought back one whole child
from the flames from history from my personal oubliettes alive
next time next time next time next time
it won't just be all bluster & ritual but something
will issue will well up from the rear of the black dragon
the putrefaction itself will send out dispatches
to the effect that we are nearing a new shore
birds have been sighted through cloudbreaks
after forty five years adrift convinced only that not knowing
was always our best hope of attaining knowledge
no i won't eat from this damn table crawling with lies
.
.
happening at a different time like that in fact
an impossibility though something to do
with continuity is appropriate as metaphor
alchemy you know sometimes involved
repetition of the same operation over
& over with nothing changing but the time
i hate to use the quickening thing but some
sense somehow of the eventful continuity
must be present to take it elsewhere go off
tangentially look you idiot if dinosaurs
had shared hunting habitat with humans they
would have been a defining presence
written into every human history not in hints
but large & loud the many deaths the importance
that everyone live behind high walls no one
could live in a hut or a cave Rameses II on his
way to do battle would have seen his army picked off
by vast predators each night & if he did then
he kept it secret so this in itself then becomes
an alchemical thing the repetition the sameness
the fact that i have performed this masturbatory act
six million times & not yet brought back one whole child
from the flames from history from my personal oubliettes alive
next time next time next time next time
it won't just be all bluster & ritual but something
will issue will well up from the rear of the black dragon
the putrefaction itself will send out dispatches
to the effect that we are nearing a new shore
birds have been sighted through cloudbreaks
after forty five years adrift convinced only that not knowing
was always our best hope of attaining knowledge
no i won't eat from this damn table crawling with lies
.
.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
no place like home
[Lynndie] England was diagnosed with "selective mutism"
—Emma Brockes, The Guardian 2009
The wind began to switch / The house, to pitch
—Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz
Lynndie gouching on her own opiate stormchasin
bunch of human it ain't so different from a bunch
of chicken parts.late-night in the factory
back home.....through the saccades blinking it out ....blinking ......out ........
Graner screwin Megan all along thumbs up
cigarette in mouth smile now point at his cock
just like that for the camera "It feels weird" did you love him
do it for me Lynndie............yes I did yes I do
Dubya Rumsfeld four months silent after the pictures
in their "sick to our stomachs" [in their selective mutism]
.......Lynndie & little Carter sleep in cannibalised bunkbeds
in Mineral County night—Carter [they say] suspiciously dark
................................................as stacked ragheads
Lynndie the all-unAmerican chicken licken
BIG STORM she says
..............................naked on a leash dumb-for-approval patsy
chasing lovin through a twister spat her all the way
...................................................................back from Oz
......................................................to no place like home
......................................................
.
.
(Publication forthcoming in Intercapillary Space)
—Emma Brockes, The Guardian 2009
The wind began to switch / The house, to pitch
—Dorothy, The Wizard of Oz
Lynndie gouching on her own opiate stormchasin
bunch of human it ain't so different from a bunch
of chicken parts.late-night in the factory
back home.....through the saccades blinking it out ....blinking ......out ........
Graner screwin Megan all along thumbs up
cigarette in mouth smile now point at his cock
just like that for the camera "It feels weird" did you love him
do it for me Lynndie............yes I did yes I do
Dubya Rumsfeld four months silent after the pictures
in their "sick to our stomachs" [in their selective mutism]
.......Lynndie & little Carter sleep in cannibalised bunkbeds
in Mineral County night—Carter [they say] suspiciously dark
................................................as stacked ragheads
Lynndie the all-unAmerican chicken licken
BIG STORM she says
..............................naked on a leash dumb-for-approval patsy
chasing lovin through a twister spat her all the way
...................................................................back from Oz
......................................................to no place like home
......................................................
.
.
(Publication forthcoming in Intercapillary Space)
Kowloon
lights up and down the bay
I am on some sort of seafront
hemmed in by stars and water
I have a glass of icy beer
a whisky
a computer
I am ready to overthrow the monarchy
just ask me
.
.
I am on some sort of seafront
hemmed in by stars and water
I have a glass of icy beer
a whisky
a computer
I am ready to overthrow the monarchy
just ask me
.
.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
notes for a poem about cursing
Sister Sue, tell me baby, what are we gonna do?
—Mink Deville
time has gone wrong here for no reason
it keeps swinging me back
..........................look it's like this
like you've had a sort of stroke
let me explain that there are flowers
where your hands should be
but what is this called he keeps asking
day and night with that look about him
you have a condition which means
you have to be careful what you think
[it would be more compelling to dance the meaning of this poem
but arranging that would be unrealistic—small local
performances could be devised but for a large-scale alert
of this sort something more is required]
he insisted there was a warning in the sky
but it was just electricity humming & sparking
...........oh we told him right there and then:
.............................you've had an episode
.............................you are reassembling things
.............................without a plan
time has done something
there has been a catastrophic error
this poem has performed an illegal operation
& will now shut down
...........................the head and limbs are in the wrong places
...........................—it doesn't matter but some people
...........................will call it a monster
it went on for years
think of him as a boy facing the corner
in a pointed hat
is he a dunce or a magician
either way he's thinking something up
....................the thing is someone starts it
by shouting & drumming
then you take over and don't know
how to stop
[your screensaver is a vision of your own death
the naked one reaching for you in the leaf mould]
..........................that's all it is
the beat goes on & the beat goes on
hold the flowers up to your face
work them until you see fingers
this might take years
dip the flowers in hot wax
think them into dripping clusters
of language and light
a sort of stroke—you need to think hard now
what was it that did the stroking?
this computer has not recovered
...........................from a fatal error
.
.
(Published in Intercapillary Space April 09)
—Mink Deville
time has gone wrong here for no reason
it keeps swinging me back
..........................look it's like this
like you've had a sort of stroke
let me explain that there are flowers
where your hands should be
but what is this called he keeps asking
day and night with that look about him
you have a condition which means
you have to be careful what you think
[it would be more compelling to dance the meaning of this poem
but arranging that would be unrealistic—small local
performances could be devised but for a large-scale alert
of this sort something more is required]
he insisted there was a warning in the sky
but it was just electricity humming & sparking
...........oh we told him right there and then:
.............................you've had an episode
.............................you are reassembling things
.............................without a plan
time has done something
there has been a catastrophic error
this poem has performed an illegal operation
& will now shut down
...........................the head and limbs are in the wrong places
...........................—it doesn't matter but some people
...........................will call it a monster
it went on for years
think of him as a boy facing the corner
in a pointed hat
is he a dunce or a magician
either way he's thinking something up
....................the thing is someone starts it
by shouting & drumming
then you take over and don't know
how to stop
[your screensaver is a vision of your own death
the naked one reaching for you in the leaf mould]
..........................that's all it is
the beat goes on & the beat goes on
hold the flowers up to your face
work them until you see fingers
this might take years
dip the flowers in hot wax
think them into dripping clusters
of language and light
a sort of stroke—you need to think hard now
what was it that did the stroking?
this computer has not recovered
...........................from a fatal error
.
.
(Published in Intercapillary Space April 09)
smelted parataxis exercise
scene is as usual a car struggling uphill in the pink rain
that begins unaccountably to wail Oh she says this rain
it clogs up my belly and puts out monsters my driving
would suffer less were it not for no monsters little like
this they are in their squirming he says your driving is
like your mother's parrot uninteresting and bald and
it goes nowhere a parrot maybe a parakeet a big one
I heard bit off the whole oar of a cat that stuck in its
differentiated tissue I'm not in any way
edgy she says I am relaxed now
why would you say that the light falters on hillsides in
late afternoon without even a cloud maybe it is mystic
light you speak of in your parrothood of which I must
remind you I know nothing but look he cries now all
absolved another stalling of this vehicle will bring us
together and collapse both our tents into the same ditch
from which if I remember you came up shining last
time last time there she was hopping one legged still
squawking of her sofa after the bombing after the milk
spilt all over her polished bloody doorstep after that
just the same anyway her life on her knees by a door
step asking for sheen of a clutch slipping there's almost
nothing left to be said beyond the buckling up in the grass
years after school but back there too like everything was
ready knees and ankles all just ready for the slippage
I know you never liked her just because she said porridge
as pourage and you thought it was nasty like seepage
well so it was if you ever tasted it as she said it now
we will need to squawk for ourselves in the cuttlefish
the sun itself roaring like a one-legged spider it's late
fucking late late all of it a stuffed dead thing still ticking
itself out through the long pink pourage but you you just
like the sound of your own voice yes I do because it's the
only one I can hear even when it ticks out of your mouth
he says she says if you hear zebras in wednesday streets
no need at all to think of Texas this waving anyway is a
one thousand year umbrella
it rains frogs
dearly
.
.
that begins unaccountably to wail Oh she says this rain
it clogs up my belly and puts out monsters my driving
would suffer less were it not for no monsters little like
this they are in their squirming he says your driving is
like your mother's parrot uninteresting and bald and
it goes nowhere a parrot maybe a parakeet a big one
I heard bit off the whole oar of a cat that stuck in its
differentiated tissue I'm not in any way
edgy she says I am relaxed now
why would you say that the light falters on hillsides in
late afternoon without even a cloud maybe it is mystic
light you speak of in your parrothood of which I must
remind you I know nothing but look he cries now all
absolved another stalling of this vehicle will bring us
together and collapse both our tents into the same ditch
from which if I remember you came up shining last
time last time there she was hopping one legged still
squawking of her sofa after the bombing after the milk
spilt all over her polished bloody doorstep after that
just the same anyway her life on her knees by a door
step asking for sheen of a clutch slipping there's almost
nothing left to be said beyond the buckling up in the grass
years after school but back there too like everything was
ready knees and ankles all just ready for the slippage
I know you never liked her just because she said porridge
as pourage and you thought it was nasty like seepage
well so it was if you ever tasted it as she said it now
we will need to squawk for ourselves in the cuttlefish
the sun itself roaring like a one-legged spider it's late
fucking late late all of it a stuffed dead thing still ticking
itself out through the long pink pourage but you you just
like the sound of your own voice yes I do because it's the
only one I can hear even when it ticks out of your mouth
he says she says if you hear zebras in wednesday streets
no need at all to think of Texas this waving anyway is a
one thousand year umbrella
it rains frogs
dearly
.
.
Listen to this. The mighty Jocelyn Pook celebrates the musical tradition of the word Hallelujah, and in the process creates a short composition. This is, in my opinion, the way that both music and poetry should be made. This is a really special piece of radio. Can't use the link function here right now as I'm using someone else's Mac and I don't know how it works, but here it is to copy and paste:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00jhpp8/Hallelujah/
Masked Ball by Jocelyn Pook (don't watch, just listen):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=go4E4tNGQks&feature=related
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00jhpp8/Hallelujah/
Masked Ball by Jocelyn Pook (don't watch, just listen):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=go4E4tNGQks&feature=related
Monday, April 06, 2009
Jeremy Prynne Zahawiri bin Laden Gianna Michaels gulfed up nohow
who can truly say what it is with Gianna Michaels
the way these days that resentment grows first from
a reasonable disquiet at such perceived injustice
as was evident in Egypt when Quttb made his
comparisons she sprawls like that large-breasted
& they pull it off anyway Zawihiri and his boys
do death to Pharaoh two minutes of the last smile
on the hotel rooftop frolicking she's a whore
he says this to me wow have you seen that he says
urgent all over about her bikini his doublethink
turning into monsters before me in room 303
do you know that Quttb had a heart attack when
they set the dogs on him it's like that Nazi game
called Achtung where a naked Jew kneels between
two barking attack dogs and shouts out Achtung
till he can no longer shout then they let the dogs
at him this apparently a game she shouts she shouts
she goes down on him routinely almost violently
outside Osama wells up petroleum he is just so
affronted now at her frivolity he wants more
than anything to kill her but she is unkillable
mouth full laughing insurgent cock eschewing
laughter for a greater delight of the kill the certainty
the knowing erection of jellies and sublime milk
treats is there ever oh anything better
than such certain killing even Gianna with a MP45
dutch schultzing the room naked DP gasping
professionally in her caves we are come from
Saudi they say we are rich we will buy weapons
we are a sperm trail hanging in space if that is
all we are then we are cosmic & certain
filled with the assassin faith stumbling down
out of Alamout double-penetrated by opposing
gods Heckler & Koch La Al the sufis all next week
Al Cohol god of the white people Gysin upstarts
no it's not over yet she has things to achieve
before she settles you are only the next in line
they made porn movies up there you know
in room 303 sometimes they let me watch
this now a fermenting hallelujah coming
of this basic certainty that there is no longer
any god but this god who has denied all opposition
speaking as he does from Gianna's severed
clitoral ream with hate foremost as laughter
.
.
the way these days that resentment grows first from
a reasonable disquiet at such perceived injustice
as was evident in Egypt when Quttb made his
comparisons she sprawls like that large-breasted
& they pull it off anyway Zawihiri and his boys
do death to Pharaoh two minutes of the last smile
on the hotel rooftop frolicking she's a whore
he says this to me wow have you seen that he says
urgent all over about her bikini his doublethink
turning into monsters before me in room 303
do you know that Quttb had a heart attack when
they set the dogs on him it's like that Nazi game
called Achtung where a naked Jew kneels between
two barking attack dogs and shouts out Achtung
till he can no longer shout then they let the dogs
at him this apparently a game she shouts she shouts
she goes down on him routinely almost violently
outside Osama wells up petroleum he is just so
affronted now at her frivolity he wants more
than anything to kill her but she is unkillable
mouth full laughing insurgent cock eschewing
laughter for a greater delight of the kill the certainty
the knowing erection of jellies and sublime milk
treats is there ever oh anything better
than such certain killing even Gianna with a MP45
dutch schultzing the room naked DP gasping
professionally in her caves we are come from
Saudi they say we are rich we will buy weapons
we are a sperm trail hanging in space if that is
all we are then we are cosmic & certain
filled with the assassin faith stumbling down
out of Alamout double-penetrated by opposing
gods Heckler & Koch La Al the sufis all next week
Al Cohol god of the white people Gysin upstarts
no it's not over yet she has things to achieve
before she settles you are only the next in line
they made porn movies up there you know
in room 303 sometimes they let me watch
this now a fermenting hallelujah coming
of this basic certainty that there is no longer
any god but this god who has denied all opposition
speaking as he does from Gianna's severed
clitoral ream with hate foremost as laughter
.
.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
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
& lo 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 to promenade with parasols
in vapid trails of fortnum ectoplastic whereupon outwards
He wouldst rush to gripe their birdbones in transports
of shuddering & lissome delight with all social affatality
.....................................for such Christian swoons
.....................................whose vapours were uppermost
& inveigled & even & unto the lateness of the Ireland
such fettled behoof is to be crogled as those sauvages
squinting inholy trees of trinity affront the passages of
.....................High English wimmin
....................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 parlaying 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 inchanting
of the galapageese as would give him cause to flutter
& take heart & in the mask of a vast bird as a vast bird
..................he would stoop into Fitzroy's cabin there
..................to demand more pumpkins
be allocated to the dying damned lizards
on the foredeck—O how flew yet unevolved baleens
so wide so white and wide all spankers gaffs a-luffing—
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 effect that such
lézardice has now no place in the lives of crestien men
whose wives yet abide in their flossing bosoms of yeastertide
this in its askance
is his moral claps
.
.
(Publication forthcoming in The Triggerfish Critical Review)
—Austrian folk poem
& lo 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 to promenade with parasols
in vapid trails of fortnum ectoplastic whereupon outwards
He wouldst rush to gripe their birdbones in transports
of shuddering & lissome delight with all social affatality
.....................................for such Christian swoons
.....................................whose vapours were uppermost
& inveigled & even & unto the lateness of the Ireland
such fettled behoof is to be crogled as those sauvages
squinting inholy trees of trinity affront the passages of
.....................High English wimmin
....................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 parlaying 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 inchanting
of the galapageese as would give him cause to flutter
& take heart & in the mask of a vast bird as a vast bird
..................he would stoop into Fitzroy's cabin there
..................to demand more pumpkins
be allocated to the dying damned lizards
on the foredeck—O how flew yet unevolved baleens
so wide so white and wide all spankers gaffs a-luffing—
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 effect that such
lézardice has now no place in the lives of crestien men
whose wives yet abide in their flossing bosoms of yeastertide
this in its askance
is his moral claps
.
.
(Publication forthcoming in The Triggerfish Critical Review)
Saturday, April 04, 2009
phosphorus face
already I am stork elmo hoar-hung all over your shrouds your sheets
tangled rolling hitch drunken shipdog grogged to the nines
your kicking strap your lowing ineffing baleen your gaff-rigged
stowage above & below a violet luffing forepeak planking
your thwarts your preventers midshipped I am gibed
& broached I will call the askance of your wet dock
graving limpet troughs blow & blast the man down haul in
my spinnaker shudder bellied out to the wind's kick lonely as
sky home of overfalls to the keelson leaden lightship moaning
moonlight swirls
the soft channels neaping low the red light datum
on the chart of your atlantic swell yawling schooner
moored to lobsters there by the headland at the wind's point
warping my hulk to its wreckage in drowned kingdoms
of the sea clung all about with weed and wrack soft
as the sea-frass offshore wails all across with ghostlight
.
.
tangled rolling hitch drunken shipdog grogged to the nines
your kicking strap your lowing ineffing baleen your gaff-rigged
stowage above & below a violet luffing forepeak planking
your thwarts your preventers midshipped I am gibed
& broached I will call the askance of your wet dock
graving limpet troughs blow & blast the man down haul in
my spinnaker shudder bellied out to the wind's kick lonely as
sky home of overfalls to the keelson leaden lightship moaning
moonlight swirls
the soft channels neaping low the red light datum
on the chart of your atlantic swell yawling schooner
moored to lobsters there by the headland at the wind's point
warping my hulk to its wreckage in drowned kingdoms
of the sea clung all about with weed and wrack soft
as the sea-frass offshore wails all across with ghostlight
.
.
bathtime year zero flarf
You SUNK my ship Familiar words
from years gone by This game of Sea Battle
is an exercise of The Union
Steamship Company's turbine steamer Wahine,
a glamorous and wonderful severance
Shut up and sit down, you big bald fuck
with sex, nudity, that really gruesome
hand-severing, and one use of the word "fuck"
now refresh your freakin page dude
Who the fuck needs a left hand anyway?
Lefthanded people are communists.
watch this spin as it falls Messerschmitt
dying vapour balloon gone into rolling fire
See I've Been Fucking Your Daughters
And Pissing On Your Lawn
even trees waving all in a line disaster
You've got hands? Fuck, you've got hands?
.
.
from years gone by This game of Sea Battle
is an exercise of The Union
Steamship Company's turbine steamer Wahine,
a glamorous and wonderful severance
Shut up and sit down, you big bald fuck
with sex, nudity, that really gruesome
hand-severing, and one use of the word "fuck"
now refresh your freakin page dude
Who the fuck needs a left hand anyway?
Lefthanded people are communists.
watch this spin as it falls Messerschmitt
dying vapour balloon gone into rolling fire
See I've Been Fucking Your Daughters
And Pissing On Your Lawn
even trees waving all in a line disaster
You've got hands? Fuck, you've got hands?
.
.
Carlito the lair of the white worm ken russell etc
the air itself a shock of innate toxicology in which
he reels big-bearded announcing my arrival my name
several times to someone unseen it takes maybe
a minute for my respiration to adjust to the sheer layering
of filth that abides here and is to be lain long in
as in an opium den a stinking Roman feast reclined
for this all-consumption look here is a picture
of my grandfather he was a U-Boat look now here
is my cat now dead that I have hung upon the wall
now here are the dead cans that once spoke and now
are full of pellet holes such is my accuracy at 5 0 clock
a new phase will begin and we will drink in its honour
O why did you not bring me your firstborn son that I might
anoint him here next time then man it is so good to see
you I had thought you were no longer my friend here
feel my confederate cap once we were confederates
for instance we share memories we have kissed we have
seen your floor slick with blood after you taught
that guy a lesson these things are not easy now they reel
as unbalanced as a cart on a steep slope pulled up/down
by significant bulls while the sun starts and starts again
yes I miss you but can't return to that dead caldera
in which we frolicked so long all ten years of afternoon
in which picon you now lie anointed ready for what is
already death unacknowledged faintly acting the last
rites of human constitution as though persistence itself
the inability to shut up look here listen to the strength
in my voice from the ashes from the wasted muscle
was now a victory of some kind against the ash the ice
bring him why don't you bring him you say curling
your lip in your lumberjack shirt your confederate cap
your beard your vodka your afternoon TV your half love
I can't bring him ever I love you but I can't and I can't
infect myself further with what you've got
.
.
he reels big-bearded announcing my arrival my name
several times to someone unseen it takes maybe
a minute for my respiration to adjust to the sheer layering
of filth that abides here and is to be lain long in
as in an opium den a stinking Roman feast reclined
for this all-consumption look here is a picture
of my grandfather he was a U-Boat look now here
is my cat now dead that I have hung upon the wall
now here are the dead cans that once spoke and now
are full of pellet holes such is my accuracy at 5 0 clock
a new phase will begin and we will drink in its honour
O why did you not bring me your firstborn son that I might
anoint him here next time then man it is so good to see
you I had thought you were no longer my friend here
feel my confederate cap once we were confederates
for instance we share memories we have kissed we have
seen your floor slick with blood after you taught
that guy a lesson these things are not easy now they reel
as unbalanced as a cart on a steep slope pulled up/down
by significant bulls while the sun starts and starts again
yes I miss you but can't return to that dead caldera
in which we frolicked so long all ten years of afternoon
in which picon you now lie anointed ready for what is
already death unacknowledged faintly acting the last
rites of human constitution as though persistence itself
the inability to shut up look here listen to the strength
in my voice from the ashes from the wasted muscle
was now a victory of some kind against the ash the ice
bring him why don't you bring him you say curling
your lip in your lumberjack shirt your confederate cap
your beard your vodka your afternoon TV your half love
I can't bring him ever I love you but I can't and I can't
infect myself further with what you've got
.
.
Friday, April 03, 2009
sometime after it's got to stop
he wants my body and my breath
he wants me
he will reject me
while wanting me
but my breath secures him in his place
there there is where you live
he doesn't know yet what love is
where he lives is
and I am still skitterish
I might be nothing
his mother might be fucking
the neighbour under the parasol
while he watches
from the upstairs window
dropping his lollipop
wondering why
when i come home
i'm not dragging fish behind me
with lollipops in my hair
he wants me
he will reject me
while wanting me
but my breath secures him in his place
there there is where you live
he doesn't know yet what love is
where he lives is
and I am still skitterish
I might be nothing
his mother might be fucking
the neighbour under the parasol
while he watches
from the upstairs window
dropping his lollipop
wondering why
when i come home
i'm not dragging fish behind me
with lollipops in my hair
gilgamesh runs hard for the border
listen i don't mind what you do
long as it was you who decided
to do it
look now trails of ectoplasmic muck
all the way back down the streets
feel your way like a lost cave
diver soon out of air
we wore caps and shorts
we heard about Thor Heyerdahl
came wincing in from the spray
60 years old wishing his Micronesia
his brain damage Neander Valley
had been cooler less Thor more dahl
less O the swells O where they feel O
blow wey hey blow the man down
in their testicles direction sunbeat
surviving now off the offerings of dorados
triggerfish the upbeat wellings red of nekton
to liverpool town one in & 1 out
orienting themselves out there
to their own little hearts that shuffle
always in the gut above and below
fucking is only the continuation of diplomacy
by other means oh look a great spray rises
amidst our cavorting will we ever
ever such a spray
know in our lives
again?
.
.
long as it was you who decided
to do it
look now trails of ectoplasmic muck
all the way back down the streets
feel your way like a lost cave
diver soon out of air
we wore caps and shorts
we heard about Thor Heyerdahl
came wincing in from the spray
60 years old wishing his Micronesia
his brain damage Neander Valley
had been cooler less Thor more dahl
less O the swells O where they feel O
blow wey hey blow the man down
in their testicles direction sunbeat
surviving now off the offerings of dorados
triggerfish the upbeat wellings red of nekton
to liverpool town one in & 1 out
orienting themselves out there
to their own little hearts that shuffle
always in the gut above and below
fucking is only the continuation of diplomacy
by other means oh look a great spray rises
amidst our cavorting will we ever
ever such a spray
know in our lives
again?
.
.
CBU-97 Sensor Fuzed Weapon Zen on a stick
regime change 2009 wars went out all over
winked on out like tinker
bells timing out unattended
oh shit no they didn't
yahweh just spat out the fairies
started up obamageddon & such
haha the dispenser skin is severed at
first dispatches say hey the archangel
just loosed another hey
and another
uh the continuation of diplomacy
by brother-scenes mother-memes—other means you, you
see them skeets slikkin down auto-directed
love in through the fontanelles
of the holy penetrated now the louder you
see the faster we go
into bilderberg my slipstream peels ass but war war
what is it bad for?
.
.
winked on out like tinker
bells timing out unattended
oh shit no they didn't
yahweh just spat out the fairies
started up obamageddon & such
haha the dispenser skin is severed at
first dispatches say hey the archangel
just loosed another hey
and another
uh the continuation of diplomacy
by brother-scenes mother-memes—other means you, you
see them skeets slikkin down auto-directed
love in through the fontanelles
of the holy penetrated now the louder you
see the faster we go
into bilderberg my slipstream peels ass but war war
what is it bad for?
.
.
giving of names to warriors
up to the wave that you can't pass
can't feel your way through this one slick pilgrim
level five and five and no further
like always like always go back start again
feedback debrief regrief cry in the rocking chair
if you still can
don't give a damn long as you dig it up
who was that who was that who was that
who gave permission?
oh yeah
not you
boy in a cave
not you
.
.
can't feel your way through this one slick pilgrim
level five and five and no further
like always like always go back start again
feedback debrief regrief cry in the rocking chair
if you still can
don't give a damn long as you dig it up
who was that who was that who was that
who gave permission?
oh yeah
not you
boy in a cave
not you
.
.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
a tierra del fuego
outside the little lizards in the loud light do nothing
do nothing be still while i only came in to see
the bisexual latina women
in the second cubicle caress each other and kiss
...................................................for all the world
[of fire] like a sort of spanish revolution skewed
as anarchist tapas to voyeurs fading already look it is midday
there in the doorway something a string stretched singing
stamping up the hot dust
how can you say this it happens not at night
or at day only there in the stretched place
she stood up and down the street listening for the light
as something slipped invisibly by her
.....................vamos a tomar una copa
........she says stamping up hot dust
her red/black dress dispatching lagartos
......................................how do you flamenco distress
at noon at midnight vamos a tomar... her tracks are in daylight itself
in the cubiculo they come and go
not to be unspoken ever mouth to mouth
don't talk just fuck me she says
fixing it so easily in one line
no hable sólo jódame
....................................bilateral shift breast throat breath
.................................... refresh
these pages pages look again for it in the stretched spaces
..................................................where it never was
.
.
do nothing be still while i only came in to see
the bisexual latina women
in the second cubicle caress each other and kiss
...................................................for all the world
[of fire] like a sort of spanish revolution skewed
as anarchist tapas to voyeurs fading already look it is midday
there in the doorway something a string stretched singing
stamping up the hot dust
how can you say this it happens not at night
or at day only there in the stretched place
she stood up and down the street listening for the light
as something slipped invisibly by her
.....................vamos a tomar una copa
........she says stamping up hot dust
her red/black dress dispatching lagartos
......................................how do you flamenco distress
at noon at midnight vamos a tomar... her tracks are in daylight itself
in the cubiculo they come and go
not to be unspoken ever mouth to mouth
don't talk just fuck me she says
fixing it so easily in one line
no hable sólo jódame
....................................bilateral shift breast throat breath
.................................... refresh
these pages pages look again for it in the stretched spaces
..................................................where it never was
.
.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
fullup lurkin count her fits
violence can be a gentle thing only
the soft wind that blows us apart
a refusal of the next move
over coffee or wine so casually
it doesn't take much
to leave us lurching
beaten
only our last resort now
will keep us gulping
winning the lottery finding love
turning to crime writing a book about it
committing murder or suicide
screwing down the wheel with heavy ropes
look always on the skyline
that damned tanker coming hard
hanging men as shrouds
flying invisible ensigns
already they are throwing overboard
the live horses
make room in the belly
for us to lie
unsinging our long creak
.
.
the soft wind that blows us apart
a refusal of the next move
over coffee or wine so casually
it doesn't take much
to leave us lurching
beaten
only our last resort now
will keep us gulping
winning the lottery finding love
turning to crime writing a book about it
committing murder or suicide
screwing down the wheel with heavy ropes
look always on the skyline
that damned tanker coming hard
hanging men as shrouds
flying invisible ensigns
already they are throwing overboard
the live horses
make room in the belly
for us to lie
unsinging our long creak
.
.
a possible misunderstanding of vampires
I saw a thing on TV a guy laid out his dick on the table
for it to be cut off and eaten by a German cannibal
apparently he screamed well you know given
the circumstances who would not but the reason
the analysis the flicker here is that of A Man who
had lost his brothers early and now required this
extreme intimacy in order to get high on his
friendships but you know I lost my brother quite
early and didn't eat anyone's dick for it in fact
would have struggled to get it down really even
on a desert island after many days without food
I'd rather eat kelp or some shit like that
than cold dead dick
.
for it to be cut off and eaten by a German cannibal
apparently he screamed well you know given
the circumstances who would not but the reason
the analysis the flicker here is that of A Man who
had lost his brothers early and now required this
extreme intimacy in order to get high on his
friendships but you know I lost my brother quite
early and didn't eat anyone's dick for it in fact
would have struggled to get it down really even
on a desert island after many days without food
I'd rather eat kelp or some shit like that
than cold dead dick
.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
the contour event
you can easily diagnose from any point here
the voice to the burned out trees scattered
or the hair or posture any of it clear enough
as downed fighters around him where he lays
to sleep in fact a nightful of pathology in which
a physicality of pain is recast as predation
morphologically knelling up sequences of seashore
mutations then throwing itself out again and back
by the absence itself of love look look again here
at such dryness and extremity such sexuality
of the obsessional go and ring these bells
upon high they are the languages of trees
under which are buried siblings and pets
slowly unwinding themselves chemically
towards rivers of remembrance and a realism
of grief that grows as a new arm a leg a sense
of the phantom shouting at dawn naked
among the lurchings home O if only we had some wits
about us ready to record everything and play back
the figures behind them and us that disappeared
but were seen clearly riding at those times
just before we woke on doorsteps with the clinking
of something that had just turned the corner
still in our ears but forever lost in the start
of where it cries itself into waking
then how we would look and look again
.
.
the voice to the burned out trees scattered
or the hair or posture any of it clear enough
as downed fighters around him where he lays
to sleep in fact a nightful of pathology in which
a physicality of pain is recast as predation
morphologically knelling up sequences of seashore
mutations then throwing itself out again and back
by the absence itself of love look look again here
at such dryness and extremity such sexuality
of the obsessional go and ring these bells
upon high they are the languages of trees
under which are buried siblings and pets
slowly unwinding themselves chemically
towards rivers of remembrance and a realism
of grief that grows as a new arm a leg a sense
of the phantom shouting at dawn naked
among the lurchings home O if only we had some wits
about us ready to record everything and play back
the figures behind them and us that disappeared
but were seen clearly riding at those times
just before we woke on doorsteps with the clinking
of something that had just turned the corner
still in our ears but forever lost in the start
of where it cries itself into waking
then how we would look and look again
.
.
no greater love
the Churchill-Darwin robot ancient of organs
mulls all of worms along the sandwalk kicking aside
barnacles there strewn each named god he kicks
them into the grass plying in his siren suit that so long
are their urgent marine phalluses their feather clutches
the sway in which Sedgwicks on the horizon
gather in their storms as ardent lieutenants wary
//a hideous
abortion whose head should be crushed he says
he who refuses the leopardskin pillbox though
even his fiercest allies would have him eat from it
his flatulence almost a climatic phenomenon
his vomiting a yahweh itself that careens him and his
landing grounds his Huxleys his bubblemines
only a woman could have written this he whispers
strip her of her bright vestments that the lies beneath
will be revealed and always there the possible truth
of no eternity together no delighted culmination
only the dark brother of the confession of a murder
whose shadow they will gather in Nuremberg
to look again at its cyanous thought-acts committed
down that same sandpath where Malthus slipped
a note at the back of the class to the mouth of this
the monster come forth so modestly to eat the known world
such love such gratitude such wanting such trepidation
in a sudden certainty of nightmare his daughter's face
this full now of the hammered-in wedges dead smoking
mushing together sardines and cognac so intoxicated
[big-bearded fatfaced over-sensitive loving loving
breeding up a thousand watercolour offspring]
is he with a warfare that grows all over his breakfast
that shines its radar purpose under the sirens
.
.
mulls all of worms along the sandwalk kicking aside
barnacles there strewn each named god he kicks
them into the grass plying in his siren suit that so long
are their urgent marine phalluses their feather clutches
the sway in which Sedgwicks on the horizon
gather in their storms as ardent lieutenants wary
//a hideous
abortion whose head should be crushed he says
he who refuses the leopardskin pillbox though
even his fiercest allies would have him eat from it
his flatulence almost a climatic phenomenon
his vomiting a yahweh itself that careens him and his
landing grounds his Huxleys his bubblemines
only a woman could have written this he whispers
strip her of her bright vestments that the lies beneath
will be revealed and always there the possible truth
of no eternity together no delighted culmination
only the dark brother of the confession of a murder
whose shadow they will gather in Nuremberg
to look again at its cyanous thought-acts committed
down that same sandpath where Malthus slipped
a note at the back of the class to the mouth of this
the monster come forth so modestly to eat the known world
such love such gratitude such wanting such trepidation
in a sudden certainty of nightmare his daughter's face
this full now of the hammered-in wedges dead smoking
mushing together sardines and cognac so intoxicated
[big-bearded fatfaced over-sensitive loving loving
breeding up a thousand watercolour offspring]
is he with a warfare that grows all over his breakfast
that shines its radar purpose under the sirens
.
.
Monday, March 23, 2009
oil leaks into the map
my brain damage has extended itself
it now demands feeding at 3 am
I try to mollify its constraints its oil leaks
followed by urgent acts of mouldering
it will collapse me in upon myself
like a coating all over of green growth
that just only just stops the masonry
from falling O look how up to their knees
in pavement walk the ghosts shall we
address them as siblings or retreat
into our holes in the ground where
shuddering we learn a sort of love?
.
.
it now demands feeding at 3 am
I try to mollify its constraints its oil leaks
followed by urgent acts of mouldering
it will collapse me in upon myself
like a coating all over of green growth
that just only just stops the masonry
from falling O look how up to their knees
in pavement walk the ghosts shall we
address them as siblings or retreat
into our holes in the ground where
shuddering we learn a sort of love?
.
.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
kiss of the linkray
cadaver of the soul's romance it is to you
white faced boy of midnight crooning unto death's shortness
lifted as of injections haggard and weary boy
incapable now of reason or control for which
I love you most earnestly in your sway your
Delta Hawaii your voodoo fop effete as drug windmills
o+=f leftbank flourish fluutter waaawayy ubto squarecrune
O ifonly milove was ekk resurrection see what
mirascupules it bringeth hear my voice O scrael
now jump for it before the burning ceaseth
for tonight I walk in dreams
scared skittered as you that death
may be too short E minor augmented lefthand caress
of the deadly loving bereft guitar string garotte
most ever stepped und razor steeped such and such
.
.
white faced boy of midnight crooning unto death's shortness
lifted as of injections haggard and weary boy
incapable now of reason or control for which
I love you most earnestly in your sway your
Delta Hawaii your voodoo fop effete as drug windmills
o+=f leftbank flourish fluutter waaawayy ubto squarecrune
O ifonly milove was ekk resurrection see what
mirascupules it bringeth hear my voice O scrael
now jump for it before the burning ceaseth
for tonight I walk in dreams
scared skittered as you that death
may be too short E minor augmented lefthand caress
of the deadly loving bereft guitar string garotte
most ever stepped und razor steeped such and such
.
.
slick flarf toll road
oh we know your sort come around here
is a flower that weeps all Spring of the fallen
into disgrace a teenage girl made pregnant
by elves overnight her parents fled to the far
north houses where a man was to be found who
could cure such things given time to arouse
his potions from the ice in which the monster
waited on hand and foot man and boy they both
exerted pressures unique to the tide of moments
unstoppable now in its zest for sap it rose
upon them clutching itself in religious desire
to at last sink back and know nothing
more of the waves which had first jerked it up and off into the woods chasing breadcrumbs alone
with itself again overwintering under bitumen and flags the whole deal itself undone besides
.
.
is a flower that weeps all Spring of the fallen
into disgrace a teenage girl made pregnant
by elves overnight her parents fled to the far
north houses where a man was to be found who
could cure such things given time to arouse
his potions from the ice in which the monster
waited on hand and foot man and boy they both
exerted pressures unique to the tide of moments
unstoppable now in its zest for sap it rose
upon them clutching itself in religious desire
to at last sink back and know nothing
more of the waves which had first jerked it up and off into the woods chasing breadcrumbs alone
with itself again overwintering under bitumen and flags the whole deal itself undone besides
.
.
where you're not (buildup)
AS IF NOTHING had happened nothing happened anyway all around him
in his travail birds hung in the air sleeping alongside sidelong in the windings the wainscots nothing anywhere any of it anything he looked and looked again he didn't look see didn't look only because of the error and impossibility of looking he stood and didn't look only stood understood stood under as though a shower a rainfall as though a magic thing might descend though all the while none of this happened and he was incapable even of knowing that there was anything to happen there in the place where no trees grew no birds flew where the trails ran out into nothing where even the doors that were not doors anyway were closed to the room that did not was not could not was not known and its unknown was unknown there was where he was not had not grown did not exist there was where a hole was in the centre and he knew with no possibility of knowing that there was something there where the pathways did not seem to lead
Sunday, March 15, 2009
scarpment swing-cycle
we crept through outflow tunnels
where fat females squatted ready to spill
offspring in the dank and down
a heather scarp to the shoreline
with the barrage ballast frozen in bitumen
as so many tiny mastodons further
to an enclosure where raindrops are counted
in a copper pan set in a recess at which
a small lonely fairy in the interval of a fey cycle
might come to touch the epitaxic water
directed there by chaos and back upon ourselves
down the fill slope and abutments
over the spillways cut through to the berm
and beyond with the moor reared up
above all the vertical heave of it spilling
up haze from a faraway fire
over the old road cut for the horsing
across of burnt limestone to the royds
and intakes deep now in moorland history
with a small boy who clutched fiercely
..................................a mangled banana
.
.
where fat females squatted ready to spill
offspring in the dank and down
a heather scarp to the shoreline
with the barrage ballast frozen in bitumen
as so many tiny mastodons further
to an enclosure where raindrops are counted
in a copper pan set in a recess at which
a small lonely fairy in the interval of a fey cycle
might come to touch the epitaxic water
directed there by chaos and back upon ourselves
down the fill slope and abutments
over the spillways cut through to the berm
and beyond with the moor reared up
above all the vertical heave of it spilling
up haze from a faraway fire
over the old road cut for the horsing
across of burnt limestone to the royds
and intakes deep now in moorland history
with a small boy who clutched fiercely
..................................a mangled banana
.
.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
cinquain outtakes
back first
the boy shouted
redfaced gasping and pleased
didn't say how he'd tripped his bro
just wheezed
*
of sight
I'll only say
it's a thing all of light
of how it lights upon your eyes
just right
*
which eggs
do you revile?
I don't much like ostrich
and I always find crocodile
too rich
*
of you
it's sometimes said
that your breath is dreadful
and that insects slowly circle
your head
*
wanted:
one parachute
to avoid being hurt
failing that I'll just have to spread
my skirt
*
just watch
while I eat fire
and juggle three ocelots
while reciting Pope and hanging on
a rope
*
Wii Sports
and then Wii Sex
but in my snicket
if it don't make you sweat it's not
cricket
*
asket
not hand bask et
hell basket handle ooh
but sketband what basket for it
can you
*
the fete
was a washout
it rained over the cakes
dancing girls slipped over and made
mistakes
*
glisten
go on glisten
get yourself all lustred
smear on some shiny stuff, perhaps
custard
*
I flush
the dead goldfish
she smites a kettle drum
the kids watch the funeral rites
struck dumb
*
trail her
until she drops
my trailer trash woman
done run off with the kids and burned
the crops
*
his part
was a small one
even for the chorus
at least he didn't get time to
bore us
*
sophists
like to quibble
and argue the detail
how a slug with a shell is not
a snail
*
then Icke
in turquoise sheen
addressed his acolytes
warned them of that evil lizard
the Queen
*
the Snore
what they call him
for the rumbling guffaw
that issues from his hoglike rump
and maw
*
quite mad
is what you are
Mister Jay Harpuhay
for eating that Cadillac car
that way
the boy shouted
redfaced gasping and pleased
didn't say how he'd tripped his bro
just wheezed
*
of sight
I'll only say
it's a thing all of light
of how it lights upon your eyes
just right
*
which eggs
do you revile?
I don't much like ostrich
and I always find crocodile
too rich
*
of you
it's sometimes said
that your breath is dreadful
and that insects slowly circle
your head
*
wanted:
one parachute
to avoid being hurt
failing that I'll just have to spread
my skirt
*
just watch
while I eat fire
and juggle three ocelots
while reciting Pope and hanging on
a rope
*
Wii Sports
and then Wii Sex
but in my snicket
if it don't make you sweat it's not
cricket
*
asket
not hand bask et
hell basket handle ooh
but sketband what basket for it
can you
*
the fete
was a washout
it rained over the cakes
dancing girls slipped over and made
mistakes
*
glisten
go on glisten
get yourself all lustred
smear on some shiny stuff, perhaps
custard
*
I flush
the dead goldfish
she smites a kettle drum
the kids watch the funeral rites
struck dumb
*
trail her
until she drops
my trailer trash woman
done run off with the kids and burned
the crops
*
his part
was a small one
even for the chorus
at least he didn't get time to
bore us
*
sophists
like to quibble
and argue the detail
how a slug with a shell is not
a snail
*
then Icke
in turquoise sheen
addressed his acolytes
warned them of that evil lizard
the Queen
*
the Snore
what they call him
for the rumbling guffaw
that issues from his hoglike rump
and maw
*
quite mad
is what you are
Mister Jay Harpuhay
for eating that Cadillac car
that way
*
waving
a fat white goose
he ran beside the train
in his stripy blue pyjamas
snoring
*
frozen
in for winter
Roald and his comrades
rather sadly began to eat
the dogs
*
bring boos
the cabaret is bad
the food is just awful
and the verse is barely
lawful
*
I am
that which I am
the moving force then spake
it's a shame, cried a boy, you're not
a cake
flaky
wilderness cake
make from milk and manna
then place under a burning bush
to bake
.
.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Glock-Buddha - draft
So long as spite and vituperation shall continue to exist among the brethren, so long as they are instructed in arts of suspicion and self-deception, so long may the brethren be expected not to decline, but to prosper
—The Ugly Sutra (1st Century Anon)
The archetype of the spitting or lying Buddha was common throughout Southern India in the early Buddhist period. It represents the surrender to falsehood as an aspect of Maya, and is considered one of the most deadly of all illusions due to its ability to disguise itself as a form of righteousness
—Many Dark Lights on the Path, Mahayana Rinpoche
she exits the house spitting flies she ejects
..................................flies
her essence gulfing about her rain in powerlines
wild hilltop crackle of black orgone confused signals
look she insists tonguing the air gathering feeling
look she insists
...........................upon my innocence and candour
..............witness such affection
I strew about me as I go
..................................I have Buddhism for my soul
though it is barely needed for such a one as I so close
already so filled with the potential for love flowers cascade
about her she shuffles like a nun in drifts
......................................................of flowers & flies
one of these fly-spitting buddhists he thinks
feeling for his glock
never turn your back on one of them
he doesn't see it until it's nearly happened
till her head has half gone already
the lizard halfway out
.....................it gets within two paces close enough
for him to smell the dead stuff inside it
to look down into the mouth before the glock goes off
in its face
............................she spins spitting out of sight
back through the membrane
.....................he feels her just beyond
the air shimmers with a drum somewhere
purple petals start to drift down
people come back out their houses
bring him rice cakes and wine
he sleeps watchfully, aware of the quiet singing
it goes on for three days:
....................exorcism of the spitting buddhist
.
.
—The Ugly Sutra (1st Century Anon)
The archetype of the spitting or lying Buddha was common throughout Southern India in the early Buddhist period. It represents the surrender to falsehood as an aspect of Maya, and is considered one of the most deadly of all illusions due to its ability to disguise itself as a form of righteousness
—Many Dark Lights on the Path, Mahayana Rinpoche
she exits the house spitting flies she ejects
..................................flies
her essence gulfing about her rain in powerlines
wild hilltop crackle of black orgone confused signals
look she insists tonguing the air gathering feeling
look she insists
...........................upon my innocence and candour
..............witness such affection
I strew about me as I go
..................................I have Buddhism for my soul
though it is barely needed for such a one as I so close
already so filled with the potential for love flowers cascade
about her she shuffles like a nun in drifts
......................................................of flowers & flies
one of these fly-spitting buddhists he thinks
feeling for his glock
never turn your back on one of them
he doesn't see it until it's nearly happened
till her head has half gone already
the lizard halfway out
.....................it gets within two paces close enough
for him to smell the dead stuff inside it
to look down into the mouth before the glock goes off
in its face
............................she spins spitting out of sight
back through the membrane
.....................he feels her just beyond
the air shimmers with a drum somewhere
purple petals start to drift down
people come back out their houses
bring him rice cakes and wine
he sleeps watchfully, aware of the quiet singing
it goes on for three days:
....................exorcism of the spitting buddhist
.
.
Monday, March 09, 2009
House of Windsor
so for services to protection
the people of Chicago in 1930
vote a pension in perpetuity
to be paid by public taxation
to the Capone family
who agree to smile broadly in return
and to attend the opening ceremonies
of public buildings
like always
.
.
the people of Chicago in 1930
vote a pension in perpetuity
to be paid by public taxation
to the Capone family
who agree to smile broadly in return
and to attend the opening ceremonies
of public buildings
like always
.
.
The First Council of Nicaea & its Place in Gangland Mythology
so Constantine Genovese-Bonanno-Gambino
boss of bosses summons the families
to Joey the Barber's hideout in Nicaea
to discuss the southside Arian problem
& this Dutch Schultz homoiousia racket
—Arius & the Alexandrian outfit get it
with baseball bats & from now on the word is no one
goes it alone you shut up & you pay your respect
or somebody gets whacked for heresy
.
.
boss of bosses summons the families
to Joey the Barber's hideout in Nicaea
to discuss the southside Arian problem
& this Dutch Schultz homoiousia racket
—Arius & the Alexandrian outfit get it
with baseball bats & from now on the word is no one
goes it alone you shut up & you pay your respect
or somebody gets whacked for heresy
.
.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
someone wrote this song for me a while back. even now it feels pretty good:
http://www.soundclick.com/bands/page_songInfo.cfm?bandID=886121&songID=7001608
http://www.soundclick.com/bands/page_songInfo.cfm?bandID=886121&songID=7001608
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
elvis
maybe I didn't love you quite as
fervently as you hoped but look
a flying rat burns in our candle
.
fervently as you hoped but look
a flying rat burns in our candle
.
Reichsmother Marine
anyway the best damn mothers .......are octopus
..........................feeling for their infant heartbeats
in the cave rain singing sways caress ....blubbing
oh really
................this week's hottest coolest lullababy
is a cellular breath-blood thing that transmits
on body radio under groundwater never
ceasing sea-sings until there's a peep nowhere
only the chimes the chimes of the open
diaphragm sea-
........................sexing its heartbreath
......................................................unlonely
.
.
..........................feeling for their infant heartbeats
in the cave rain singing sways caress ....blubbing
oh really
................this week's hottest coolest lullababy
is a cellular breath-blood thing that transmits
on body radio under groundwater never
ceasing sea-sings until there's a peep nowhere
only the chimes the chimes of the open
diaphragm sea-
........................sexing its heartbreath
......................................................unlonely
.
.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
"the indentation and paragraphing and stanza sequence of verse writing are not arbitrary features, and least so in experiments with form"; "pretentiousness, sentimentalism and expressive disordering (ie muddle dignified as experiment) will not excite your unwilling readers"
—J. H. Prynne
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2004/apr/10/featuresreviews.guardianreview30
—J. H. Prynne
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2004/apr/10/featuresreviews.guardianreview30
unintransitive slunk)
the boy shows up in a hat
in a cold hat for the heat
it is said that in the doorway
he cavorts a thing or two while
waiting there in the rain the beat
the heat he is awfully intransigent
you know amidst his strewn parts
so purposefully not to whimper
hey he sleeps himself out in his exo
he complains up his mother
from his throat in her
fishnet headdress there all awkward
in the rain he dies flowers
that spill around him dying
themselves down for him soft as
his whole purpose for which
he reaches infolding to sleep
his earthly ambivalence aloft
.
.
in a cold hat for the heat
it is said that in the doorway
he cavorts a thing or two while
waiting there in the rain the beat
the heat he is awfully intransigent
you know amidst his strewn parts
so purposefully not to whimper
hey he sleeps himself out in his exo
he complains up his mother
from his throat in her
fishnet headdress there all awkward
in the rain he dies flowers
that spill around him dying
themselves down for him soft as
his whole purpose for which
he reaches infolding to sleep
his earthly ambivalence aloft
.
.
Lucky Luciano
looked in the mirror saw Lucky Luciano
looking out
them dead eyes wasn't
interceding to prevent espionage
wasn't facing deportation
wasn't holding no one's head
down in a bath
was just looking out
as if to say fuck
what?
Lucky Luciano looking out
eyes like slabs of meat grey
this is one hell of a thing
.
.
looking out
them dead eyes wasn't
interceding to prevent espionage
wasn't facing deportation
wasn't holding no one's head
down in a bath
was just looking out
as if to say fuck
what?
Lucky Luciano looking out
eyes like slabs of meat grey
this is one hell of a thing
.
.
dreambody -- draft
there is no possibility of asking
but smoking cigarettes
is itself a way of knowing
that now the sex between them
reminds him of searching mutedly
through a card cataloguing system
in a quiet earnest library
he hasn't thought so much
about the informative effects of nickel/cadmium/
hydrogen cyanide but these too have their place
in the Dewey System of the body
which must rely for divination on the creaking
the rasping the subluminal architecture
of weather even the exhalations
of those with whom you lie
at night she cries aloud O see what
fools we are so estranged what nightmares
to each other
then she casually kicks him
in her sleep
later he appeals to her
dreambody with gestures and dance
but she just looks and asks if he is
hungry or perhaps unwell
at this point he quickly smokes
in an attempt to draw in all that has
just happened
it seems that happiness
is usually the consequence
of believing wholeheartedly in nonsense
he smokes more avidly now
certain that this programme
of experiments will soon lead
to a breakthrough
another nail in your coffin she says
yes he replies I am journeying
to the land of the dead I will return
with secrets
well don't tell me about them she gives him
that look
tonight he knows
she will kick him again
as if nothing had happened
.
.
but smoking cigarettes
is itself a way of knowing
that now the sex between them
reminds him of searching mutedly
through a card cataloguing system
in a quiet earnest library
he hasn't thought so much
about the informative effects of nickel/cadmium/
hydrogen cyanide but these too have their place
in the Dewey System of the body
which must rely for divination on the creaking
the rasping the subluminal architecture
of weather even the exhalations
of those with whom you lie
at night she cries aloud O see what
fools we are so estranged what nightmares
to each other
then she casually kicks him
in her sleep
later he appeals to her
dreambody with gestures and dance
but she just looks and asks if he is
hungry or perhaps unwell
at this point he quickly smokes
in an attempt to draw in all that has
just happened
it seems that happiness
is usually the consequence
of believing wholeheartedly in nonsense
he smokes more avidly now
certain that this programme
of experiments will soon lead
to a breakthrough
another nail in your coffin she says
yes he replies I am journeying
to the land of the dead I will return
with secrets
well don't tell me about them she gives him
that look
tonight he knows
she will kick him again
as if nothing had happened
.
.
Monday, March 02, 2009
the hoofer springs some spirits (damn, this poem is just so SoQ and otherwise crap that I can't write it)
as young birds at the drumming
at the drumming quivered
wondered and trembled
in dreams of smoke and thunder
something even now was coming
to their black place below something now
was coming under
under the concrete garden
plant spirits heard her tapdance and caper
rapping through raft and pad and footing
her steel-tipped shoes hoofing wild
her whirls of blue dress
swirls of sunlight about her lips
intone and overtone
in sunshine and in moonlight
streaming duendé all the night
all next day she tapped
her affray
all this they hear
they feel and sense and fear
in their spirit guts
in chakras of soil
of cellulose of light
of smoking sap-oil
tapdancing
roll dig drop and roil
double tap flap shuffle and simmer
the pidgin percussion of summoning
of waking behold
eek of making
spiny things they were
they are they are to have been
adrift of tense and declension
stifled and stopped and eschewed
all elbows twigs rotten
thistles of osseous attitude
of blackthorn and setting sap
of pent-down spirit
caught in a concrete handclap
ball tap heel tap step and touch
soft shoe kerfuffle she hoofs
on their pressed-flat aches
flapdancing the blue flapper
cracking the roof
..........O air flood
scraps of sky smacking daylight aloof
flop out wriggling and flipping
mud-skippers in their guts and blood
two steel-tipped shoes rise away
whirring aloft in a swirl of blue
up and out into wide Spring day
.
.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Twinning Worcester with Gaza City
It was naturally suspected that the Worcester town councillors were motivated more by the idea of free holidays to the world's most exciting adventure playground than by any notions of altruism or cultural exchange.