plastic gram that crack in the wall imagine a yellow bantam shuttlecock off
to the show y’know art never lied to me yet but silicone blue shrinkwrap &
sink the earl of warwick (born 1345) what would he have to say with his
swan head helmet light swimming the shadow cup & pencils now formless
you can arrange things differently pretend you never saw & ahh the seven
sisters more deadly than twenty-seven or seven million featuring another feature
right now what have you got to say to that? smile say political
antagonism say word say wok sway what? say personal watchstop candles &
dialogue without form i say splendid clouds suspended expression
or regimes of signs signed thanks for coming thanks a lot don’t mention it
it’s nothing oh it’s quite alright it’s marked space with right angled arms
long white glove & paradigm cover story the night birds of drummond street
of modern motors & exploitation baroque grained & veined support gently
then overturn wipe foam carpeted loungeroom can’t be true north it fragmented
it layered it phylum it close now too close let’s see what do you
see? something like an ocean tossed & dropped astronomic fraternity lichen red lichen
sash my blackening soap you can’t stop now philanthropic
determinism beleaguered frog belle noir less than separated between minus
& concerto grosso manic salami songs of eastern walls without so
much as a gap belong to me be long to me be whatever pieces stuck on to
me a delightful pastel diffusion ahead of october’s comprehensive spring
losing roots to allow more space for weeds expensive lino tile perspective
yellow canned liver & apple crumble begin to naturally belong amongst
almost spacious keen-living folk without cats & before neighbours became
commercial expatriate snowfall bellowing soundboard how loud these masterful
discursive balloons carving skyscreens translated into words & transposed
up an octave or two beyond reach at the coffeeshop i remember this
carpark cardboard box space where we all got out or perhaps i stood outside
while the others went in i can’t remember exactly walking snout-rounded
towards well meaning logical tap-roots or perhaps a false exit one might
prefer the mind’s semen