Well I’m drifting
slow and frowsy
crawling into a brood
or a small steamy doze
cue: sleepy radio spokesmen
make grave pontifications
their words whistling like cooked insects -
natter then flip/slip off stage
then everything’s coming through raw
in bell-shaped lights floating down beyond hedges
white-faced beings from another sky
are threatening to jelly us softly
until the picture straggles/dribbles
into a crashing soundscape
high blood tide/terror zero
this moment almost an uttering
get the names out
out of the way
who are the men of power
beyond the grand slam of tombs
Artaud unshaven barking
rising like a fire-eater?
Huysman at prayer
in the marbled caves of brothels?
Nietzche tightening his muffler
while the pox raged across Europe?
the growing parataxis goes on and on
the rolling catalogue
stop de-clutching fetishes of ink and wood fibre
disconnect from your sleepy heroes
let their flying tombs vanish
light into light
stop this brain fatigue loop
I’m living here and now mutating at a pen-point
let the magi live on/in
the buzz tones of the larynx
the old habits die
like street boys in cross fire
in fused clumps of these connections
the brain is reversed engineered in a Martian capsule
the structure is hyper active fragile
too many neural interconnections
a war between atoms
insect bodies burning
in locked cells
exhaustion intervenes
I wanted strong literature
interplanetary bliss for all - a transubstantiation!
but I’m pushing shoving
at knuckle sandwiches of history
devastating melodies from a world next door
the shrill silences of evasion
silence after violence
in the glassy rubble
BOUND HEAT
coils of fire
whip up a brain
hips swerve to trigger pheromones
but I was in the wrong body
all lead and feathers
in free fall
into the hands of a beast with five fingers
groping in a hutch of bones
girls might kiss in a castle
huddling in delight
but this old dreamer can’t catch them out
the ghosts on the screens can’t help it
our inner egg of fire
cracks us into a craze of dead jokes
keep on running
straight out of infotainment
FULL BLOODED MOON
‘wait for the full blooded moon
to slit up your raw mysteries
keep your limbs moist
as you lie in the shattered woods
hold your body still in the blackness
be a handful of light for me’
ancient menageries live in the spinal cells
throughout me
wait dear dearer dearest mascot
like a small china bird in a forest of plants
epistemology hagiography eschatology
all got problems now I’ve got started