Full Swarms

Swarms

arm brushing arm, pressure cotton skin fleet pleasure; 

roaring under notice and warmth, shining, in hair. 

Moving, hard ground muffled through soles

and socks; aching calves, a rhythmic mist of sound

rising and then falling. A rhythmic fire sound rising

sustaining a lifting and a vein of anger. Red dominating 

with black; juxtapositions flap and ripple. 

A tickling, barely perceptible, above an ear, 

inside a hairline; a hand touching,

palm down and fully, a damp woollen weave; 

a detected simultaneous drifting of fag smoke. 

Cold and constant multiplicity of running water over fingers rubbing a soft smooth spoon.

Light flaring and a warm metallic taste, a smell of tea, of rotten damp, of warming. 

Binding purity mad goose he was better I didn't realise

give you the option hub      bub      There's a mental 

fucking cyclist going to get himself killed. 

Making its rapid way a pleasure agitation easy tumescence sniffing a breeze

against a muscular intellect & fires burn in the collision as another raises 

an eyebrow in cool question at molten justifications  hammered out

sucking nicotine & muted grainy cinematic desire a beautiful misery & feeling 

fat & disgusted & grinning satyrism blurred unfocussed vitalism beautiful

light after rain astride a saddle edged with anxiety about the time 

Near unanimity a raised arm producing a space/time place swirling through

an event, gesture ordering a trajectory               rumbling gut  ...

leaving, the talk is pessimistic and wind ruffles faces turned to each other or

glancing away in overlapping twists of unease and vague reflective furrowing

over shivering unrest anger short-sighted grumbling lengthy occasional hair's breadth skewer pricks desiring a final fucking downfall of the fuckers and a spark of loving thrill

The idea that rain is information is a kind of transcendent nihilistic mystification

and a scalp feels it teeming among follicles slogans are deadening to her 

he's feeling a force of tradition she's in front of a car looking in a grey light

a thigh aches shouting somewhere a nose aches cold & brittle lungs she

honours history but there's a chord of light there's a trembling surface of skin

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

he realised we are an individual but I 

is any number and so are we

whorling starlings of her skin her moral clarity flying

with two thousand excited biceps dreams an itself indistinct 

but growing out of her enemies' fingers out of their lights and 

their imposing communicative organs entwining eight hundred 

in simple lies and the sun orbiting the earth as is common self-evident sense,

anger at those fuckers absorbed and laughed off to the bank

moral clarity expelling with abstractions of fear and hate

the horizon shifting to a side that makes our heads spin let’s

kill these fuckers evil fuckers and air still attempts to 

fill my blocked lungs as I barely breathe    he can’t even see what

he wants because it’s self-evident that the sun is still above the horizon

like this like that like the other

blank wall blank screen sometimes a bullet in the face

is a temptation stuttering in a chest and a belly clenched

an impersonal material structure of social relations and 

she is hungry and sick and scared and it is bad for her and she 

can't even see     anybody     infected with them

in a tearing night sheets are grating his skin

wind scouring body eyes black against an impossible horizon 

worlds stripping back to diamond slow moments

two vast planes of blue intersecting along a line

an upper plane paler a lower plane seeming deeper moving

each moving differently a smooth upper seeming flowing 

along a to-and-fro-ing below and a churning and upper 

filled with light lower sparkling with it would you hurl 

you between them would you hurl you 

I see what it is because we're telling me always 

skin alive with terror at last    the last     dog barking     erupting 

in the skull at the invisible unknown heart of networks of thoughtless love

it's all come to this but it's all ever all there never erasable

a vastness of eyes and 1s through a 

thousand years of penetrating

binary boredom and gasping 

beneath barely living twitching 

weights deadening dust-covered 

crushing all leaking breath

skin ossifying to a numbness 

defensive but deathly

and she used to run pounding the green expanding

fizzing with bright particles filling cavities

each living follicle caressed with vital indifference

in the midst of dimpling shivering streams of noise

caught in snagging

  drivel

infected with them 

   infected crawling 

split membrane petrifying meat

   she is stone hollow full of buzzing

empowered to earn

fag smoke 

hot roads 

running sweat 

a rising fire of noise 

a clicking in an ankle 

laughter 

happiness and irritation 

flames of din exhilarating fingertips

firing tongues through sinuses & armpits & bellypits

amidst amused thousands of defiances even quiet 

walking through shifting hordes of a body

all the articulated buzzing and tides of living seething blood

I swallowed and swallowing torn in exquisite contusions

ambiguous roaring in his distended gut he 

springs stumbling in shining puddles with oil and yellow light

hysterical laughter all flash and blur

all flash and blur

we are bodying to body a body composed of bodies of bodies

she's spinning in Disney in a halo of glamour of gestures of power

a hand rising through decades of primary ink and bright pixels and

is infected happily over seething blood off a duck's back

shining smooth and green in strength of movement

in sunlight she's shimmering and pulling away at the edges tattered

smiling tumbling from a pipe in a wall and rising to evaporate gently ecstatic

in blue air and a crawl of fever in her lower spine and the indistinct grumbling

of traffic hard along the Wandsworth Road that fills her eyes and lungs

with gestures and grimaces and laughing and thoughts of lunch and anxieties

simple gutter paling green waste

communication decomposing skin 

living up 

from lower to upper

      surface    negative

       stulted charge   dead air

breathing in discursive puppetry & geysers of sluggish flame

a vegetative light 

nauseous storms

    of blood muting obsession

convulsive

micro-attention

      vomit

proliferating blank

speaking

     choking out by

iron haptic constrictions 

sunny dead head conflicted & lying condemnation

do you know summat about dead vowels

she says to him how even the most fucking proficient

and articulate lie gasping amongst non-fluency

features & meanwhile the bourgeoisie get wet

for fabulated waves of raggedy others slyly 

intent on stoking up the fires of idiot distraction

to breathe to breathe but no there's no

breath a 

            tumescence of a 

h e a v i n g

  abdomen but a breathless

joy in a pair of wrists and stretched 

      tendons a 

      cat wriggles under my skin 

his skin his

  a bus

enters his body through armpits

he ingests the

 cold cant off the air and vomits air till

  bloodshot and sees 

nowhere

fast & they had him removed

and his eyes prickling with every thought that ever infected him 

she used to run pounding 

running shivering  and her

     vital streams intersecting she 

knows the tendons & strength &

struggle can finally reinscribe authority if

negotiations are an even possible aim

without questioning  rarely 

she's realising 

under the weight

     of frustrations 

a stomach spasmodically contracting 

      he drips into a day his coccyx throbbing 

with an unknown encounter of obliterating

      appetites a smell of cigarette smoke rising

from his hair 

                       his scalp itching with a force of

       abstractions like exclusive and spiritual love

stimulated by cold and constant running water a

        kettle boiling and filling his skull with bursting bubbles 

and they're all here even Humphrey Bogart & Jean-Paul Belmondo

electing masters is a sick joke & she knows it

they know it

a life shadows a living hand lingering over a plate of cold pizza

an elbow joint flexing and electric shivering along a forearm

across palm to fingers the surface written with a cancelled revulsion

a calf muscle at twitch and lust spreading out from the small of a back 

a spasmodic phrasal contraction catalysing an ironic flash across a face

the quivering of reactive forces fascinates us & our curling

mouths betray a lack of clarity as combat ensues 

our legions multiplying amidst showers of flame

and we light up or discard cigarettes

a brightness of air enveloping her head 

she sings out

     in the moral fury 

of cockroaches 

              repelled by the stench

        of human flesh

I think it’s because I’m broken and barely functioning at all in 

fits so old I forget people's names ungrasping at 

a paucity of fading resources

your name and your wife and children

he feels he's going blind while seeing with perfect clarity

a friendly deprecating grin a black and white dress

a lunging forwards but his skin tightening and crackling

he can see nothing although he sees perfectly a wall of 

swimming blindness through which he sees perfectly

without it registering correctly he feels a malfunction

he's incapable of grasping his blindness more fundamental

than sight or a failure of sight as his palms are sweating

he can't do that he doesn't know

              faint smoke being torn according to reports from

the horizon he brushes against and can't grasp

      accumulated distress and fury

blue streaming  gold 

                soft 

undulating 

cool seconds

a weight  

  breathable

current 

possibility

of precarious & easy smiling

everything

possible is natural

it's 

all 

      only nature

they 

represent 

nothing

there is 

    no people

no      magic

            they

  pretend

she loves the rising road in a pit of a gut is a warm sun of shouting laughter

gripping the sky and stars swarming across a cresting grinning life her palm

opening her fist closing a shiver resisting her shins giggling in flapping matter

a thousand heads reflecting through her lights her wondering distinctly idle

he is being tightened by a reactionary defensive spasm

struggling to contain a bone-bitter rising from toxic marrow

aching and stinging with complacent idiocies of sluggish content 

a mouth WiFied into clouds of mocking correct phrases 

with violent light scouring presumptuous ranges impeding

hair irritating ears damp stench turning around a torso an arm feels it's own weight

chills and you realise fevers you can't what leave you your station give without permission

to me the face of authority is red even in pale industrial lighting and all banging echoes 

vastnesses cloud forces drops flowing bird forces beating muscles aerial forces steel rigidity brick forces

the mighty south african working class if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck

the power of workers is in the workplace mothers and lovers

mommy-daddy-me it heats and eats 

what a mistake to say the id

if I need you whenever I want you 

chills and fever 

a dog in the road 

we’ll get through this trust me 

cheeky git haunting Europe

workers and youth 

playing to the gallery crowd

skin taut rises and falls over stretched

tendons in a neck

pleasing you were temptation 

stretch and challenge 

SMART targets 

‘ere that’s a bit excessive 

there are no problems only challenges 

it’ll be a challenge 

compliance is key

you need more close analysis 

a flash off a fingernail

leave your personal issues at the door 

like writing in the sand washed by the tide 

They-self 

I don’t see any method at all 

snow lamp posts halos of light and a parcel

fold over fold 

stupid shit bosses say 

stuff your boss

what a diabolical fucking liberty

an eyeball shining and twitching faintly irritated

pupil expanding coupling to an arm that gestures

in uncertain emphasis hesitating and falling for fingers 

caressing a pocket rim then plunging absently in

and coupling with coins a head brief and vigorous nodding

lips plosive now stretching to laughter a body catching

and being thrown with infected pleasure in conjunction 

with a sharpening but ambiguous sense of absurdity 

sucking on that