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Wednesday, 31 August 2011

Sasha 3


Untitled


Transitions

It is merely recognised.
There is a dog plus computational power.
A warring body is shattered.
Food is poison.
Power is reduced.
Fingernails, sweat and hair are unassimilable.
It is merely registered.
A series of organs in combat.
There is, simply, life.
A red globe is drifting down through shades of gold.
Flesh driven by outrage.
It is stripped, to bare denotation, of imagination.
Power turns on itself.
Consumption is destruction.
Power turns in on itself.

Tuesday, 30 August 2011

Only all Beyond none


Realism  Be realistic  We
are in a ditch  Be mature
A mature strategy  I am
mature (You are immature)
Be realistic  We are in a ditch
Mature is the good  Realism
is mature  Be grateful  They
talk  They listen They
disregard  Be grateful  I
am mature  I am good  I
am transcendent  I can see
Be grateful for me
We are in a ditch
Under a tower
That listens
Be grateful
That disregards
Be mature
There is no
outside no
beyond no
Be mature
Follow me I
will take you
into the tower

Water 22


Monday, 29 August 2011

From 'Here'


53.

Turbulent dark tides
returning flashing reflections

A malevolent fiction of consistency,
sclerotic vicious infection He is
dragged towards obedience She is
pushed, legs wracked
         Cast
         Encased
Dependence fusing with the requirements of an economic elite
whose idea of flexibility is a shuttling carbon unit at minimal cost

She’ll be grasping light, she’ll be eating it
He’ll swill great gulps of cold air, of warm air
They are undefined by metastatic mutations
proliferations of prostheses
preferring not to, playing at betraying
spreading and threading through
an immense shifting labyrinth of concrete
brick steel and glass desire
finite and endless

Sunday, 28 August 2011

An Event


An explosive flash  A physical image  A
driving through a window, through plate glass
A significance that cannot yet be grasped
A flame lick  A crunching boot that is fleeting
A partial understanding that is preserved
A night rushing  A moment of panic  A
context  An eye stinging  A blink  A
tear  A surge of joy  A sensation of
warmth on a cheek  An explosion of cant
A tightening of fear  A bewilderment  A
piercing of sirens  A fury of loss  A
grazed knee  A tear in jeans  A brief
electric gleam off flying shards of glass
An excuse for repression  A skittering of
laughter  A voyeurist hypocrisy  A
missed opportunity  A ranting frustration
An insistent courage  An act of vengance

Saturday, 27 August 2011

Untitled


From 'Here'


44.

Standing through pearlised light pushing uphill,
trembling sun reflecting cries of reluctant consciousness:
traffic, jet engines, an orange coat. Breezes
curl, lifting, pull shining bubbleskins apart, strip
skins, dazzling brief infinite.




Brown eyes die under orders

Hands claw seizing wheels

Light expands drowning vision

Ceiling cracks emitting night

Pale vapour tears

From 'Here'


45.

Colourbursts fresh scenting desire light
        expansive bubbling clarity
of rock ‘n’ roll shining black reflecting blue
        to be born to be sunshine to be
exhausted headfull rubble sleep over a word.
        Airburst imminent immanent throatfull of paralysis

They will sleep differently anew entering a new room,
        they will get up get up get up smudging half light,
their laughing solidarity taking a reconfiguring turn
        glugging throats open spines fizzing fresh light
to fingertips daily hailed by alienation and encumberment:
        light will not decelerate and water won’t flow backwards.