Thursday 25 July 2019

Material Wriggling - full text

Material Wriggling

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 swinging
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. 

A steel spring daylight soft in a corner.  Breathing, dim. 
A darkness smudging up white tiles glowing in 
and out, 
spun, astronomically, across glazed surfaces 
drifting shine drifting daily refreshed, slow under a rapid 
impact of drops of water penetrated by sharding  light,
splinters sheering off & imaging a window and dim 
A body shifting through intersecting events, 
an obscure blurring across an individuation of an eon
and sharp inside a hour. 
A figure flickering across a million retinas. 
A gigantic torso eternally patterned with lichen,
suddenly crumbling across a millennium into dust and sand. 

A print of paint obscured by a  brightness bouncing 

There is a faint birdsound and a quietness in distanced cacophony 
but impressing in a body is silence 

An obscuring paint print brightness bouncing through and
a wind, a slight and light wind in pale sunlight
oddly dreaming, slightly,  curling up and becoming 
painlessly torn, exhilarating, ripped and new-scattered -
demon love outside any kind of eyesight, pulling 
away for a pan-plane galvanising joy by ugly shock. 

A plunging 
a rain 
a crowd
a sea 
a city 
and a light 
that ricochets 
                between it,
a shuffling 
a crowd 
a blood 
spinning through 
a body; 
a dancing of 
energy through 
energy, waves 
and rippling 
and waves, 
forces and 

Entwining shuddering sound waving across red and gold air sillage, 
a tapping across a dirty wooden surface, splashing dark & sticky
thrilling liquid skin in rhythm and in sync, air pressure falling, 
high night air ringing warmly and crackling alongside street lamp halos,
a speck within a speck turning and shining at a periphery of a 
framing cut, evanescent, buzzing, burning, convulsions. 

Skin whispering inside a whirling of a variation of engines and a
depth of shining through darkness/
         moving always in process and already begun, skin whispering
through, like moving through traffic, a whirling of various engine
noises, a body of these several durations intersecting as a 
multiple one, this engine plus that one and that one plus an other and
always including this one, that one and an other plus a whispering of
skin and a depth of beauty of a shining through darkness. 

A street is vibrating and reflecting itself as waves are 
passing always through it, vibrating as they go and 
turning in the structure of concrete, infinite, complex and 
orchestrating itself vibrating vastly, anarchist, a music of  
spheres in a hair follicle on a dog’s back in a street at
seven pm, darkness full of colour and light, in April this year.  

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