Light walking a shining pearlised
sheer sheet, glass damage &
irrelevant intent skimming across a
density of insufficient resistance;
an increasing cold red mid-range
whining of contemplative satisfaction
plus a four-dimensional ring of
anxiety over unmade travel arrangements
drifting over slowly wriggling legs
sticking out of a bin, feet in wet bed socks -
opening out a damp and shivering rent
in soft blue-grey air, self-care and self-
identity are tending to shimmer from the
edge and then inwards - and then out,
and, suffused with lust, the bright light
is full of saliva and electrical muscular impulses.
Skin greasing dirt onto paint: a dull
smear, a shining through a diamond-
hard temporal absolute, run through
with lurid impossible colour, infinitely
parting with Planck-length cracking,
a movement to alpha centauri via every
route along and out of the way; a fingernail
scraping away a layer of skin inside a
limitless ricocheting hail of waves/
particles/strings and a door swinging
through blocking and unblocking,
a dull shine passing back and
forth across a satin surface, dimmed
slightly briefly every apex, an interference of
dirt greased by skin onto paint.
Across a red brick wall a little winter light will
fall successfully, wriggling to it in many billions,
processing the problem of a world like a
universe in which it exists. A problem that
subsists. A brief morning folding onto a past morning
and a sharper, harder light. And when light lifts away
and darkness rises from the asphalt and pavements,
bringing coolness and the scent of living
flesh, an undulating and a fizzing starts that is
loving every connective glance of a
living collective joy in a heart of matter, a
rapid gesture of an appendage that draws through
another space, another substance and every
molecule of every mode, a gesture of defiant joy.
A steel spring daylight soft in a corner. Breathing, dim.
A darkness smudging up white tiles glowing in
spun, astronomically, across glazed surfaces
drifting shine drifting daily refreshed, slow under a rapid
impact of drops of water penetrated by sharding light,
splinters sheering off & imaging a window and dim
A body shifting through intersecting events,
an obscure blurring across an individuation of an eon
and sharp inside a hour.
A figure flickering across a million retinas.
A gigantic torso eternally patterned with lichen,
suddenly crumbling across a millennium into dust and sand.
A print of paint obscured by a brightness bouncing
There is a faint birdsound and a quietness in distanced cacophony
but impressing in a body is silence
An obscuring paint print brightness bouncing through and
a wind, a slight and light wind in pale sunlight
oddly dreaming, slightly, curling up and becoming
painlessly torn, exhilarating, ripped and new-scattered -
demon love outside any kind of eyesight, pulling
away for a pan-plane galvanising joy by ugly shock.
and a light
a dancing of
Entwining shuddering sound waving across red and gold air sillage,
a tapping across a dirty wooden surface, splashing dark & sticky
thrilling liquid skin in rhythm and in sync, air pressure falling,
high night air ringing warmly and crackling alongside street lamp halos,
a speck within a speck turning and shining at a periphery of a
framing cut, evanescent, buzzing, burning, convulsions.
Skin whispering inside a whirling of a variation of engines and a
depth of shining through darkness/
moving always in process and already begun, skin whispering
through, like moving through traffic, a whirling of various engine
noises, a body of these several durations intersecting as a
multiple one, this engine plus that one and that one plus an other and
always including this one, that one and an other plus a whispering of
skin and a depth of beauty of a shining through darkness.
A street is vibrating and reflecting itself as waves are
passing always through it, vibrating as they go and
turning in the structure of concrete, infinite, complex and
orchestrating itself vibrating vastly, anarchist, a music of
spheres in a hair follicle on a dog’s back in a street at
seven pm, darkness full of colour and light, in April this year.