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begin of absences by hand/ by key, by mouth/ by hoof in thick of all colour smell of flight descending blank a page of hands drafts go through like doses * around the old fire I start up the clock - what tongue, what tone/ gesticulation? Weary the hunt of odd addition and complacence assumption testing makeshift heart not knowing what embarks upon everything crooked in my garden everything sideways in the soul listening clues in my vast corner
doubt's my way, my faith
in one
*
art of the track is never arriving to see the circle of not seeing it must be a risk to itself the way thousands of hands and they are the same make smooth the wood doing nothing like that
alone of this reason a thin line like worm fishing out of us for meat - all that is offered
*
inspeech stood out of understanding sun and its steady on run of light's loss lean of angels on brink about who takes the time to point these risks?
frames pour me on not lost, much ventured when I am empty & to contend with roads are kept clear fear tanged and fist led full of bad seeming you guess the nexus musing baited with doing what no one else can as intricate sincerity fattened forth stuck on one world
*
to speak uncommonly of common things in every brief my tongue (what am I getting away with here? or am I?) good self, down self
when I am full and finding for the burden of the great among cryptic, unnoticed - rib here a ripening (that languid first of supersession) pivot - bells ringing wings beat at distance alms for the sensation fading - a poverty we live to coax first chorus to gather words fall to their work of failing us every way I jump is home
a dance of hats
out of skins hours appoint make sense of lack of never quite crossing the other mind where I am had where seasons work their out of intending
invoke then visitation the manner of the call? - scavenger's anthem tail in the mouth comers all puff coasts are a guess I, the rockface, surefoot, graven in up catch at the mirror these tops tip to me leaves face out path made without making yellow beyond wind packs over to build and build and still let go (loose walls of a town which dwelling comes on)
every day my seas rise up dreamt to scaffold there pass out sighs they lower the ropes in ether alley as camels' eyes needling cloudwracked, unavail I trim my carpet to some hunch which bears all ill away
every day more still than the next - a dry run for eternity
sun for a laurel all air to buffet and only the lonely faith of the finder circular, professes
*
come to the rhythm of standing things still tormenting old reason again I pick up a child's pencil, sniff write as one addicted to what warms my back
in the end only if there are gods you make them as you go along see if you don't, I dare
every day edges peel this privilege and play renouncing and after last lamps nap in the soup of queues go through me grip on the world how is it this morning?
as if thus you were set aside to make the everyday
*
paws of earth head of cut skies fish fins for peddling fire to keep cock hearth ash heart scribble my making
in twig of toe and limb of lust in awe of all mad shambles let everything grow wild today
cut no branch and nip no bud today in this wind taller than the eye can wish let everything go wild today
tame no words and shape no sense let the spirits call our names and we will all requite them
let everything wild in a day of big tides let each have its say let us run out of words in scratching to shape
something cannot be spelled calls itself by our names them put a hat upon lusts with which we're made then sing a lightest touch ensouling sense in the river runs over us selves unsaid let everything grow wild today
*
till sense and touch and next intending all attachment which I am
prayer irreversible all do this for... we who have worn out the world's welcome what tug of mind may wreck?
the planet hums home forward, hurtling arc it's hitched to widdershins led by riffs to rule lines under heaven
... and as always spoken for ... on the day of my funeral (that first of days by which I am over) I give instructions hovering unseen
one day and soon a shoreline recombining with this pile of habits I am the one to scour turning and turning full of tides
on the day of my funeral I accost these few mourners - the cheerful invisible then once in an ever so once in a while to find the self forgetting look now
no hands this little of voice sung skin upon paint and all lean together if the soul is not immortal then the body must be free in the end aches have me bigger than bones
in time's contractions stood that old abandon making me
or infidelity forever pleasure and defeat, reprise the church of your sayso (brick wall in the mind unmade the speed is predetermined and the airbag's there for farce)
* sat up just as the unconfessed in the Mayfair of heaven - their fingers shall slip through they shall inherit the martyr's misgivings
and what is song but the voice of another practised and known by terms we set and so accept?
cast this against untimely torn roll up a tantrum beat on tin lids in rafters over me afire
if you can see the angels that's their lookout I suppose
shaped of nature and the door barks shut because of and despite we are
*
o numinous machine! o keys! depend on the delay of freedom in which the all lies open to me and open because undecided mine because I use my luck that's how art stands out of life to show its possibility in everywhere it's from: cruel democracy of fate have you a better theory?
a pall of judgement inhabits all saying
presence - o, we are indulged between blur margins it's luck that holds the horse-shoe up and not the other way around
thank fear blasphemes us hope rifles divinity the heart is homing god's where? unnaming of things is everyone's work
between of word in your walking away is the air I am left in my standing your silence my kneeling benighted hoax of the said
*
dharma
is many
a slippery school of fated fish imbibe each other falling for the self again
faraway's our ache more loathsome yet, truth's absolution - cleverness dulled with simple routine pretending intimation stubborn of critique washing over with fact like a dullness wearing behind the eye knowing a little how little we know - that's our legend won't leave us
the monstrous snoring of beginners |
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unedit me unscript my sense
and with what suddenness achieved
in lidless blue likeness of eye my luck to be kept in giant's writing hurling beasts at the sayso of reason thus to see what miracles expect of me
bewilderness
dream of the rooms yet to build lost unaccountable in conscience scaring wits from out their sullen hollow
* for every sentiment some retribution falls foul of its folds
ah - heady smell of the aversions listing all of the past in what's to be said live for the love of not knowing what comes
as one might ache into a stone so many moves ahead
there is a war out there in here perfecting skin first act of decay
which treaties threaten good will and best wishes are chafing away
there is a war which the just know for rights
which God has enlisted first among ghosts big pot of flesh stirring dares earth open pants down at the foe
our dinner comes and wash it down
song of ourselves in their pain singing mud
then there is yet there is war's decorum stood under gentlemen words would dispel
my story and I'm sticking
a wilderness we live it here
breathes between us breeds in us
in words which are for sense to make common
perfect in accidents and in delay
an orphan heart packed with fears
temple of lost lines
as if in a daze of nights are come elsewhere by nowhere skirting by nod
at last to the sunstruck ruins still stand and in their lamps come labour reaches of the deep empyrean re-risen
know now as you always have bush tall with voices fallen out of the wind to tame
bluffing empty armed they come
we unannoint ourselves take stillness in the rush of paths
vagrant coaxings full of flesh and come to worship
here are the sherds of knowing disordered pillars extant
within - the idyll of all script wherever I am cast of shade to mouth what others can't - my way
*
five minutes in apostasy in a fictional landscape all telling is truth
shirts out, ties off in rhythm together reconstructed pagans clearing a spot to look on for the nubiles they're trying to show how they ought to be favoured
it's we who climb out of the. self to say if ever there was ink in those veins
grammar breaks over does the salt snouting shines in our weed the given sea and over thick with trowel sky set
between of barricades, footnotes for vagueness of plying the terror of vagueness
leads away in not quite a knot - impossible figure solid and infinite out of and in other and me
*
o truth you do the hollow ring herding out of instincts
how can thought not regress to know itself eyes everywhere and of suspicion authentic to some kind of faith
characters fed on thin air need attention sleep to dream and wake to play
that's my wearying chase of tale my temple lines and loss
splash here
for the harbour these pylons for staves bare bones of the day a singing between
dead as pelt cords are rusting
we're slapping it on or we're touching it up mistbright you start anywhere in worn out bolts, washed out stars
a street thrown over the water blue as Celts we come home ' in our owing forever likewise in our always have had
sick with wanting sick with too much
from the city grey green of the shore lightening to air above or the bobbing deep a bottletop green unswimmable
an ending off in mid-air
we innocents of exile
the bridge is painting us light singing over |
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consequence of borders
this room in which I am the cause devout in voices, undeterred
one day old and preparing to flee
in weightlessness of limbs set up in the tower or under the tide
making borders with bare hands empty made waiting to cross happy dullards
and these the teeth of old myth dissolving their glass of coke
*
shack for a pyre beached on this sea plenty has hold and won't let up
suspends over the flame this faith - the wound healing time, how it becomes a randomness to all affection
refusing doom I dare no fates but only the given by law lays us down
in dreams how a nakedness hangs in our doing - unsaying whatever we work for all day
at last a great hiss of machinery out of the depths
*
respectability never lets up it hangs on fresh adversity has to keep shaving the armpits
still for kip's suburb (ears all point one way)
when I am nowhere here at home longing appetite suspended in its generality
toiling off nightstuck trembling to know heart to its ocean depth fallen
stroke the glans of day coax rising under the mat of mastering paws a sky of dice is loading now a tug of mind my quiet
echoes of the rest in me no sword falls for their ravel
black patching of a sun shot through flags of skin till dry we fly and love which unadulterates
* beside the sacred cistern the oracle says for a good time ring this desiring transcendence won't get you beyond • nor ever the trick of disinterest that muck at the bottom of the lungs is breath from the dream stood at the window tamed to words, propriety
not absence but a disappearance truth comes to us having no other way falling up off the ladders last rung watch us the air and its piecing together wings wear out it's the echoes that last
inside the itching for its soup (weather prays for us) the scrotum-scape sea in minutes by change which only the lover of man attests
lungs spread like a sky over that
year of thunder
myth of hymen
skin to skin and in you my drum to beat upon I dreamt of awakeness how sleep wouldn't come
dwelling-in of everywhere a dancing at the edge misreading this adversity fondling at deformity
in the womb I woke a sailor canvas rigged to catch at blood to help us from the heat
*
the history of lips then - where all come front none can deny colour of lips made to match out of longing the hidden made sudden wherever we meet reminds me of you reminded of me
all gestures dry stone or mortar coursing are as death's light in the living skull the future's survival backwards in us - soul's grip of visible bone
sniffing for fear among the old bruises
*
everyone wanting it shoulder to groan seaweed strewn after a deep end to drown fins, gills again
everywhere likes to be touched what paw to sniff what snout to scratch the nape, the brow behind the bushes parents hear eagerness doubtful joyous consenting
spite of motherly bluster
o fruity genitalia made in matching and smugly know the what's to be touched
under beards of fear lies the boy fostering absence moment to moment longing and sense their rub
and billed as the wound that heals there's one (skins fall over themselves to get in) flesh healing over a stab at our seeing this piteous sigh hands in before the scar can set swimming an ache in the wind to its end
God's gaping eye angels all dive in - wings back straight the silence studies a winner the moment you climb in te absolvo says over the box
still and despite all edge of the afterbed easy the every animal guise love gets used to us first ethics would ask would it, how could it not whether the world is wasted on me
*
I'm sorry again that was penis spoke
over the flesh bowl a good shake and bleed there's a trooper that's the colour I sat to attention when I'm in you and faraway doing the boundless business at tunes or thick with harem, pantry
sleep speaks in him a team of supporters tiny trap but lots to say yawns through the evening, a beer, the papers part of me which never marries faithful to a purpose though fits flesh to fancy
my pet my little Pteros can only count to one will that make me monogamous? stroke my wings I charm the world I open doors, lift dresses all with that tent pole inattention of being simply stuffed with life and in a rakish charming way gets the girls light candles and eye behind blindness under skirts of imagination ring around me shrine I serve my shining still cartwheel sex of all containing part of you that's in my head pictures of us were, will be
part in my heart which won't let up skulduggery maid who after whispers tails into paintwork
what if during they call the roll and I'm off jigging with the boys then smoke behind dunnies and the wind changes I'm an astral traveller woken up in the ground
gravity does me a last stage abandoned loose decaying in orbit my pariah moment
a voice takes up with any other just where the mermaids hear me sing
*
subtle head sheep dog beside me by morning
a fluke to fall in like this too clumsy back in the womb recovering virtue
this the lost property office none but us virgins down from the sick bay heroic humping swag shovelling down in the coal to convince you I come to that room risks never have taken fantasy's underside, raw, in a mess
I'm building a tomb in my own yard of longings
Resolve me! Absolve me! o swallow me down
lead me away to the vanishing place counting doom till the lip is dry having said
back in the womb what a party we have anchored to wings in never the one place back by ourselves in forever together
it's dark in here and I light a cigar to celebrate there's no repression stink the place out but then what am I here for? kick up my heels and outside they say ow revenge for the seasickness always afflicting we all of us love the carrying cow forward into the pain a brave silence I start up the lorry after a day of titanic becoming eat them out of house and home
sudden with strangers outside
*
I turn the border crossing me but such is the effort of naming I¡¦m over you¡¦re with me in the other scene soul's hesitance where it always was love's never tiring
after the sea has had me I'm thrown lay my horn aside to wake
there will be drugs in that age I am sure - smack for the pain and work back from there
keep the chest clear until the inevitable then it's roll up the proceeds all cheroots desire stumbling over to get in the door
then think of death as your tea never comes the bowels unmoved and unpronounced starvation, blindness, unfeeling eternities that's how God ends up without us all absences finding that once and for all we live that way and carelessly steps back from the brink it's day heaves every prospect forward buries subtle shades discerning a catch between the eye of day and ours which makes it mean
believe what you like nor am I ready for the sort of book to make sure of which you begin again just as you're finished
there's always a last thing subtracted from and if not guilt then resignation
a shadow of making casts over all |
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Unemployed at last! - a different order of persistence
to be inward of the world that is and not begin proclaiming I am a snail through the text of the world not far ahead the silver shows too easy and too slow to follow between momentum, and loss not a wink
see the man not standing there rain not falling still seeming trees hang up their sap on with their trick sky tending what animal that doesn't know us cringes, flees or feigns away?
feels my fear no nature in law then karma is our right to hope: a good side of vengeance making us good against the here and now
beyond days lengthen happy with the wind is taller pinned to their vectors bright eyes along up when the solos
the wall's eye having missed what was waited for
against these few bob the fact of the forest the last queue for wages against the feat of doing away with infinite things privilege surviving waking to toxins earth wheels under this act past distance
too much with signs and forgetting to spell pursued in unseen old favours
what an age the built is where the bush was cattle were now we don't know there's stick figure/ mailbox a door in this field where shadows half catch
we only know what's like our words and only cause we've made it so and them and so ourselves which are as speech cut from air (yet to face sentence) all judged before the breath came in
nothing outside of a game in the grammar nothing without the body's full throw
resounding with fight the carcass numen o forms of beauty I abandon eye upon a seeing self deixis is difficult a kind of permanent cliche how things are and meant to be less escapable than duty
transgress me I dare you
in everyone's language are adequacies given passion slips and catches means and breaks something unfailing this poverty stands for the young in each the old lean said ever knowing what ails
greatly sufficing truth and nature to stand outside the day of just hours we this hollow
something there is that never resolves
we who have written began as one book |
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wish ourselves dry condemned to hard words I till no whim follow fears turn the tap or tap the keys what do I consent to?
building a pond makes a big fish of me dead of night toils in how knee is bent on the tiles tuning down floor sweeps me how I'm wiped and washed day gets on with bright the eye muses on what alters it and alters what it muses on o how I sparkle how's my sheen? day by desk in clatter of mind all these macabre attempts at me build a place to be lost
* the life of the hands and the culture of light doomed to all outset the past is a lesson not to put up with
from words decay in words entombed marching forth to scare off battle
a pebble holds me in its palm this skin round and water smooths clean the old impossible because
bruises of being are in us for good my perfect house clear once in a world the clock has made solid
shrinks down with old timbers dredged barnacle depths telling deep in the rain places my voice was once you've a wall and the wind starts to worry
Here's to the old impediments! in everywhere at once a home and all upon my humbling weather flew as it were worn
first palace rises stone to hold under the chalk moon yearning winch turning here and here's my licence fact over dumb fact peel back again I want to celebrate abstraction show how the story of us makes it where the lonely truths come home
I throw a raft to fix assumption drowning both
*
the first room is weightless goes on where we conjure fallen by clutches too hard out of moods the good flog themselves wicked, the wicked assist gone under for a premonition one room is just sky and falling further for infinitely longer than you'd think one full of feathers one of lost hates which having detached themselves seek freely for the will or the soul or the spirit, self - your name, it's up for grabs one for flinching a hand always raised fear to stand under one is all excrement preserved as if wrath piled the old gods in there smeared with ours and their own fixed on the bottle, each moment grown lighter not so much heaven as one is for stars the earth in another too close, too catching where we end is one room containing the sea which is thrashing outreaches itself into and is all erasure
a skinny old man tells how to get here shows us the key and the sink and the broom under the mattress scores belief easy on the ink
wash and we wash and the weed is up over flows from us
the future won't budge there's none of that heroes in mildew stop still as trees listen for us each in the other's patterns prey on the dark of insect lives light clamour |
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set out in a circle to see where we are how many I am today fat full of earth and ripe to requite first of my tribe a practised demise distracted from absence the virtual here my tail sets everywhere before a chase after smoke and bound in this full of those musts which make up volition
here I go see me set only watching
modes; hailing and forage and welcome I flail, the horror of any one thing at a time sat to attention to misapprehend
in drift of choruses wake up to ourselves Why you? Why now? Why ... (tragedy smiles on the many, makes few) headlines get a wriggle on too many of us sub cutaneous loose then for the hunt and drag to caves (I have been in these many hands)
the village arrives in the run out of trees
to blunt misgiving halo shone chains accounted
dark cloud to settle night my ink I fumble the switch of forgetting fall in the grubby old arms of the done-to din waking long prophesied
I don't get doubt's benefits as any dabbling child would why don't I earn that jaw respect all the rest to work go for? am robbed of all the dignities small purposes may generalise
because I play stakes bigger than me loss at them foredoomed in simple words which cut the chaos make it ours, a grief which won't abandon in loss however much is made pale whispering the what's to do
still stand against this
ours the last country growth's parable and it's others go under
one day dead, waking all's forgiven steady out of this rain falls each drop as a sea sun meets us as if to spite cursing cold choir attending breaks the news though in a tongue you can't quite catch
my discipline they're after a vial of sweat for theirs is the kingdom of eyes down reliving relieving themselves
mine is a child's blue sun's shot through harbour in sail making lines
a trick of unison a voice of accidents this mine which distance catches/ cannot see forgive me unsung foliage and dinner swollen here by lacks which make my wanting mean
how populous I am how dug in planks of the storm laid on take my swim as comes fall of the guttering steadies the rain
one day in its voice divided the personality of truth comes when it comes and can't be rushed, slowed am what I'm born to be or made or make myself who knows? to be in charge of words to let go of the world as read depending on the what's-to-be I make my way unknown
then does the voice betray itself, always outdone by its means? each compromise drags catacombs the body requires its confession slumps into something more comfortable (all of this which can't be helped the with-us-wherever-we-are - all there's to know on the head of a pin stuck in that haystack mop of mine)
we who weigh like a nightmare how it becomes us the wound healing time no patch of bright such
not to worry our parents in forever say here I am angels of fate attend (what other kind?)
it's their wrath bears always up liberty of my poor cell
when first we were fashioned of mirror whole tribes tangled in involuntary as sky it was - heart's refuge in the true of dark mind's refuge in the heart this much luck and hands like day the body is a sunken ship soul blind by and half way home much love bears down until loves show skin so cracked and set to paths how fallen to and for
I'll be a faithful ghost I will, I didn't mean to drown
one day billboards exhort the immutable gives a good shake we are the main use of being mistaken
words invent our loves
sun ticking over us stills one day we're gone by then and couldn't care foils for silence stand, a ground under the tickling dogged stars as far, as deep as hope will have - a pill dissolved in word too slow breath too catching scarred with flows and self inscribed one day in skin, out again guilt exalting a hoop of the self felled of laughter
my perfect parts none made by me
we go on in the making of ways because there is no other |
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a kind of nagging not showing
just time killing us as it will in its course without judgement or panic
next truth must always lie close to tautology thus far it dwells in breath short of span calls after me when I go out so we dwell in mercy together all written in a dreaming calm few articles of doubt sustain
after demise the odd appearance perspired as we do between doom and the bullet to be continued ... magnificent God only is great I throw a lifebuoy to the critic whose first rule is to disobey easier said than use your luck and gifts tear shadows with an eye to glory
there is no way of getting here forest cleft, shy rising gone for monk on rock with no way down eagles which brought you now are changed the smell of ink is all that stands for attributes of nature
*
an act of drift to slake the tongue with household tides ourselves are fur and fish a bonepicker's special Sunday soup to breed all week
by calm
I itch I'm anyone natural to watch the papers read the telly buy insurance thinking ashes self hanged in some heart's empty corner signed by the fans away it's natural wind changes and again birds sift through it
impossible reciprocal no heavenly remembered intransitive hope I'm going through my difficult period the work's resisting what's required ordeals are resting up from me
outlives me life thus worth my while collecting from everywhere last of the suburbs this strung along pearl of abandoned wash shiny town of tidy sun' idle where the mill won't grind
innocence losing but the dishonoured sea returns to our own abject
nose to the grind bone lost in sparks I don't want to know what it is that I do what trains thought abandons I'm planning to survive my works - a match/ a swig of kerosene ink foiled call this insurance triumph over art a comfortable obscurity the best place to write from be written
*
unsteady world aside meet myself where? in a club at the beach some languorous hour the one impressed alleydark unscared I'd slink consort and cheaply have my self if in that firing squad I'd be the one to finish me save all of my three wishes last revel the senses that's why you're here
presence out of every pore breakfast a king imperial lunch I'd dine like a thing from another world
*
the phone rings all at once then tell me what is not like this everyone works for us bullied merely to belief
my affects each they come to me happy tribe born ill equipped
to say the world for love of us is singing or knows what to do sets off the barking chain to join the earth mouths melt to butter they're had back - there's honour
see yourself contingent and when there are none left to see
under old derro skies no address and no reader
serious bugger always a beginner that's how they'll have me slated in the book of the worthwhile obscure (it is hoped) his tombstone reads: sad when left
*
as truth is in distance out of particulars abstract as your face in mine a kind of Braille you write to leave no trace where time is best stolen from strangers
must look with other impossible eyes make the dawn last with insatiable crowing
crag worn away holding first fire chained to it telling and told for the jealous unseeming and yet they are warm yet they see by this light
doorstep is crowded with not letting go
under the old pile of dirges this is the eye remembering fire
the trafficker of shadows clumsy mother hands fruity death with its planets its junk blue and black rotting
up of day
shy immanence signs in the fridge (we think we're cheating the big fly-swatter but it wants its meat as well) and in the end the heart attacks or inside folds away took up - befalling or some visitation everyday death says these are mine
what scraps and pangs are quibbled for
life's relentless we're the plague kept from still subject to our own subjecting my dear my made bed lie in you and when I am towards cessation a bob each way and a box of old holies chickens to roost the only stasis apprehension trial by error formula yearning
*
I for my part go on wrecking like this every draft further from perfect beginning which looms ahead away like doom |
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head down among them scrubbing for fame for justice come bitter to end whom honour mocks, pride set of marks upon paper shot through with premonition
to speak as of the dead and now partake pretending till the wheels fall off then I'm not there at all never checking the mailbox nonchalant grudging we know them in continuity cursed to curse others thrusting the old penumbra forward unfolding hopes horizon biding
*
how vast rejection lays on Ø how bright in the pages of luck the small are lauded unsufficing must make them care issuing forth as in stride where they lay hard at mirrors hearths warm by
among the all spoken
and once and for all they are the avowed sporty in their new diaspora
what if a thousand or more must pass of drought and plenty, told-you-so
careful of your cupboard with them whom hunger owns will deliver yours into the generality will see the need lie in wait mastered of an arcane art all impostors come back forgotten where from somebody's demon, angel, boredom
somebody's last day on the job rid schools of guessing after
crowd spoken constancy of souls as suicides escape themselves whom exile never thought escaped into eternity which is a mark itself (which, version and of what escaped?)
and I, too, forth and back a charmed life sunshine holds and scars a rhythm under bullied into unbelief inflicting saddest incarnations faithful yet
you fat poor and you thin rich I stand before you in a minor key diminished for occasion elsewhere bound and hunted home overlapping undeclared a prospect of cage soul deaf
from readers how we harness dread - the threshold of the legible, a flesh of sin death won't believe
here by Titans in inertia edited among oaks exalted of acorns I stand a great unaccounting lonely my years all of summer yours of cold for habitus a dying genre sans craft or any god's breath nor word to call mine all these ways haunted dumb unacknowledged alone feeding hump or worrying which sublime, in affliction consummate and unbegun
*
play up! play up! o milky sap how boys unchann begintimate a fair sun sat
the trade in ambiguity the nation woke aside deciding
ask me o rabble see my credentials words which worked themselves to death from away the green grows
make money or it's made of you
you thin rich and you fat poor work for your border for one there is meaning and the others you whom charity leases to life I stand before you equally
in best manners deep in oeuvre
we who live under puzzle unmaking tormented with answers passages home who know the evasions, proud borrowing
nothing personal - death, brave reader under the pile
it's a job deriding
invisible work which breaks no rocks which mends no light indelicate of speech however no standing angle grub for spite the language not invented yet
till no whim I follow fears
for the lies of the poets are legend you know apocrypha (that smell? well once we were on fire for charity they pissed on us, but not quite quick enough)
*
concert of sense the world was stuck which now has shifted I'll rot for the same sins as you that's solidarity forever
unconvincing grandeur deluded words are a circle in which we give chase and in which we are given stairs of smoke each comes to build machine to make me I will cure must write as if greatness were burdened with me hardened to spite and too clever
come to my fattening come all you friends love hurts us that we might love back bear me your ends we all get to stick our big paws in the sack
go humble and slow and means will get you the mighty stand above all work they have perfected unemployment which never was a cause of shame for them or their society penury was what they hid however manifest, by baubles fate lay thick still now when they toil at feigning leisure that we may call their founding lack we make a world for their spat thanks so white we live to court derision to block and stall make other sense or that there's none at all yet
nothing is forbidden me knowing odd socks myths of dry self and folded to flame give me the odds doc I'm wearing it anyway dogma defines me, there's no easy out o testes heavy with their burthen yea pendulous with child
we could do more to lessen ourselves old age sells us off in a scribble if
/ it's all a draft until I'm gone and then please call them relics /
numb to the palate die uncast and day dissolves
assume a truth in working lies for what they're worth a cosy fall beside assumption
fighting the carcass fled of spirit catharsis sweats and pollen dry summer eye upon the seeing o forms of my abandon the lie in wait of lines and just as well the wait and see
acknowledging luck the foreigner lives in a knot undeciding which no words will do all mattering ear must build a right roof change of hands wash of sense ¡@ we're in the long run selves to blame it's raining in the walls tonight raining up in heaven or drill a hole further than others throw to the bottomless how it goes down no sight of ends still we might burn a bit half blaspheming or wishing we could
*
adulators! detractors! leave me alone
anoint yourselves
the way out is the hall of glass where a bird hits again and again hammering home in the grip of the made
sunskinned they flock bonded in tongues let's have their breath baited paws ripe applause some swooning, some envy mainly just pride that we are theirs and they are sung for ours to abolish cook up another
my soul is bare my way is clear years into the work under you'll see pale flesh past bitter far fetch
a most general beyond - Chico's finger which lifts from the keys briefly points transcendence out
imagine lost to strength why not? legions of tampering floodgates the fidget books of modesty such as this is the washup and when to roar stroke my main so forth
kings, queens for our inch and hearts ripped, heads • century sewing the scone back all you see is stitches
despite of all the deities my feral friends and I agree and in a distance safe from scorn ourselves a human sacrifice
but I won't go psst - over here - some backsheesh
this one poem and its other their method to deflect
all those ruins cost something you know the starving don't knock them up just for fun
there's no plot nothing like that to lose not needing to be here or strike a truant attitude I only want to poke about
*
hello alone with my maker overnight they spiked the punch with acid and they took away my pen they strapped me in the zipper
I saw the harbour gods you bet spectral ferries by the wash Joe sang and he stood up time the city woke about its way its any lyric told the pain the world through me like salts SWEAR! spoke the old ghost under me roaring from Wynyard down picking through tides done beasts from the heart over the staring edge till blink a bravery which sailors seek to know which wave they will embrace assured the world ends everywhere
*
Salute our assumptions! Salute the unsaid!
anyone buys a ticket wins last gasp scribbled out for chips you who are left can bet you will yet
and in contention here the fate of these faithful careless of odds Thermopylae mob - a noble 500 from every walk and gender leaning long to rave under us gathered on a hill of hoists (new Golgotha)
they waltz the threads of the old flag to tatters
pulse quickened with every average drug
titanic unfeeling calling all bluffs these simple exempted
Noble 500! number you now effacing, disparaging phatic communing thieves of pretence selling hearts door to door throwing their spanners souls from the twintub ready to hang Faithful 500! and I your lost brother among us the heat-seeking fatwah
a grovel for pittance and home by the hearth every day every way just as we were pin through the chest on the butterfly paper
they root like dancers drink like fish burn off before the dry sets on dig a ditch till the brain is all blisters this way for honours and out
cripples/ sluts have at you
sound of one eye clapping onto another
phrases to keep warm need not agree
in a cave keep the fire fearful it goes
Adorn me! Exult me! Inhale me!
my peers Give me that crown! Thrice I will have it! It's only the what-we-all-deserve
*
ours is the exile returning to pictures grumblers in their making sorrow lay down with the tiger with hunger outside
once you have been you will always be sad of the years gone without owning up to the world wanting to climb all those ashes again
ethics of sentience heart a day's blaze the canon loves me I respond sit still while I have you it fails to say cause I do all the talking do I?
a kind of silence drowns me out - things lost from conversation scripted as the failing of speech
head full of frames a crisis, a rupture these few pills to take (in the mirror not mine lonely swagman mucks in with landscape stays the hand) o wild propensity! nothing hangs its hat on me
*
start my own island barnacle or big eruption days still stand under a great healing sun as I see alone of my kind wrecked here ashore I will fashion a tongue
abstract, all tenor I mean how memory endures of us fallen deaf on ears war for the victor like fear without the retribution grief loses me to going on
you have to be bored or better, resenting the where-you-are and how-you've-been next looming way out in words way in as well
time stands in us time takes a seat
muzak camera makes the world an act of recognition nights against all bent belonging favouring in speech its figments - act of willed assertion
*
got a job playing words a big tent in the city
once in the world I conquering came forgetting a next line last and then on
the grandmaster's limitless simultaneity soil sky ladders climb down God's clerks offer up boots of the accused
the thankless start a new religion
in the pub of dreams pagan I say the gods will be as long as their names are known
visionary gait steals over the sands the cattle wheeze paddocks
universals are everyday folk unsettle areas they engage
theirs the bottle and the dry weed's smoke (pantagruelion) kidding us sour and frisky validation a slur to saying to licking the wounds
cast my tail to this wind lies close it's borders struggle never we wound workers open the eyes
*
I am the ring into which hats are tossed reciting myself is incanting belief expansive method my thick of all colour halo shone breath out of nowhere
how I'll end's up above the city in type
paddocks and far seas furrows must plough
when I find my voice (how pride might dare me to its rights) I'll regulate the roar of things tin of the ticking which echoes behind something terrible foresees me - a step on the cracks of nothing official
superstition's better than that dismiss it, it bounces back ... one of these days how luck will having found my freedom what can be taken? only the all I'm bound to lose
one voice stills the tide stands caught up never imagining me |
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losing my way to the risk of allowing cracks are my dwelling love of luck know I am the animal making this track shaping sun to a burrowing over
brave flows find the tribe of me path falls away from the feet of its making
as I was coming to my craft keyed to commencement/ ever was - o luxury appointed me I ornamented shame deep and sudden suspends the discontents of day
nag home the which makes you yours allow all guessings virtue allow the curfews of the soul to dream yourself silly forestall ending up a tug of words as if they flesh like the circles a fly takes to follow you home
best digging's with your own skull for a shovel (act of allowing must give up the voice stand out of its own earshot even)
skin of the earth is in me somehow outlives my making, faith's blare (act of allowing must give up the hands)
give up the lacks beginning you the learner says what the tongue can afford must give back the brink for this same fated
putting forever away
see the soul sideways then a bird's eye not square hand made wait that's the charm and in my own dream not paying attention we are the unseen said
art of allowing is deaf to detractors to all coherent interest
the writing cure is wounding first and healing depends on arcs knots tied bitter with milking come to blows the beasts by fences drawn
harbouring boat and green of the bay last stars slip, moon's done to earth blank swimming
some things should lie over doubt but faith grapples can't be sure makes do with sincerity
the misery of knowledge that it undoes itself should crowd the heart from feigning as greatness makes transgress dreadful as death bed confessions so heartfelt and so similar - how to tune in to all that?
it's luck they sing for luck's leeches live on ¡@ mucking back and forth to grab soak love into their next intending luck lives in close shaves humps us home comes to our senses listing all of the things that don't matter to God
*
only tasks worth facing make you feel small words abstract of what? of words?
in my mark said made of all others hope of peace yet worlds of yet
my blundering apprenticeship
whatever is enough unless then otherwise whimsy buoyed see self recede as if the body were a borrowed suit the mind a borrowed song
smoke lulls ashen cloth, smile creased to flame our making and we rub upon
sat in the sun sits in us rafters rib air a day then sky steering nothing to burn stop stock still to listen for the first of hands they build these houses still alight
*
a day without words ¡@ such as foreigners must or they alone with waking worked for haze bobbing up mistaken
what wrestles with me makes me mine - a sad outside of love
one tongue divided with itself not knowing where all chase, surrender half home already half decided
blind and limping back the sent, the setupon dwell nowhere wilfully out of the way
mongrel tongue follows round like charity, taxes barrow come home of earth's end wizened up before time
stand in me in all sorts of relation
lean into the picture the picture leans out
in drudgery blather the unsought stand good stead sweet dreaming after too much wine
in lieu of madness, prayer in lieu of heaven, madness
assumption and annunciation great to get under again learn to be languid - that's my next motto back from the grave
I am away when I am here ¡@ (the unknown lies in all directions) it crowds the self to never settle
sea is, my medicine ointment and ink lies under and over and serves for my
*
becoming other is the art of becoming
a voice over mine and the scope of reversal
only ever divining place a permanent apprenticeship I take it as a vow as sworn to nights I scribe by air by eye by hand by hold
my everywhere owning the faithful exact I bury a bone I can't remember try days south in sea our childhood extending
world of burdens rounding on exiled from their own among
doomed for a certain time to tread the cabinet of echoes
*
buried in a fire of grass bliss of the blanketed nights when the weather's gone grace of spat stars an itch has hold
the nomad lives lost in the homewove enabling
cadence day low walls in dry stone cliffs rise over ¡@ the ruins begin
for fellowship absence all kinds of persistence dwell in for us bricks melt back to earth, to sun the memory to memories lost
I myself a sort of doom to attract (measure my plenty, suck on my lacks) last ditch of its setting by lulled away puzzling
*
lights tuned down we bear our teeth ease in winter lessen virtue that we might attain
in the guard's van now they've packed up the cards
second guessing each other they're pleading the same pub afloat or on rails but the question is wrong and everything pinching
up all night in the amateur chess hour
all comers knowing and not their fight to the finish
and the mind of God (in vain seek the rest) patiently at rounds to prove something about free will
something sad and which no one remembers |
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