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 

shimmering. 

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 

eyeblink 

exhausting 

a rain 

a crowd

a sea 

a city 

and a light 

that ricochets 

                between it,

a shuffling 

movement 

across 

a crowd 

a blood 

vessel 

spinning through 

a body; 

a dancing of 

energy through 

energy, waves 

and rippling 

inside 

rippling 

and waves, 

resonating 

forces and 

material 

shimmering

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.