Material Wriggling (so far)

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 swingiing

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. 

Contagion - full text

Across the water I falling in my waves and particles 

Brightening myself cutting through, elements

Mingling as I merge as I watch myself watching under my 

Racing sky, warmth on my face and across my concrete 

Surface beneath my feet walking running standing and pivoting

I'm kissing and I'm watching me kissing with taut

Passionate cheeks that make me smile in my waves and particles

As I'm borne on my wind and torn and scattering wetly into my air

I darkening slowly across an autumn evening and gaining a chill

Surface of skin and Formica and wood and painted metal as I

Tread crunching on gravel and pant and pad softly in wet grass

My clouds massing blackly against my purple, and I run and 

I stroll slowly my hand in my hand faux-oblivious past me in

My damp sleeping bag and inscribed with black grime laid 

Across and pressing into my cracked and dirty black & white tiled 

Surface lit me a blinking amber shining reflected off my dark windows

Feet frozen in my boots steel toe cap cold caught in

My wet mud ground I reflect me seen by me as I pass and

Fall acutely across the sky and over boots turn ups and mud

Against sheets of glass around dog ears & fingertips of gloves

I feel class anger in the core of my gut & complacently consider

Lunch in a little restaurant around the corner love my own energy

Avoid looking men in the eye stand with relatively enormous force

But relatively little already crumbling slowly in winter sun and wind 

Music runs through watching me moving and filling a head 

And less than stationary body living later autumn unseasonal 

Warmth and night-yellow Camden weekend noise I headlights &

Scent particles of food & I a woman’s middle life and iron past

Bringing her me to the feel of the cool glass in her my fingers 

A nodding dj’s head an exuberant dance move a wet shine 

On a worn smooth sticky well used wooden table top

I go quickly doppler by wailing I sit I stand I walk