. . . and still more Swarms . . .

personal views relentless onslaught pain in the rush to Shakespearean complexity

a head aches

              global opinion

                         challenge will        fingers slide amidst hair

                    will glow 

                             it will be challenging it will be fucked up for tired feet

a solid majority fury at a coolness in glass pressing sweaty film 

and realising that that radiant fluorescent shining across the surface of a plastic 30 litre 

container, brushed on the fly with a sensual ecstatic gasping gaping grasping 

of  damp eyeballs and electrified optic nerves will always be 

different and will never return

and passing what passes for

turmoil and electricity and

an autonomous

arse and a drifting of uncertain light and

an eye's shivering pupil and public

fury manufactured in the public interest 

and like a rush to war and a stiff and painful

knee an itching between toes

bars of near-black crossing a shining wall of air a 

              h e a v ing

   of breath