Friday 8 March 2019

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