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.

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

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

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

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.