Tuesday, May 17, 2005

not the facts

data ignited its lagoon, flowers burnishing the delay
as if it’s never simple as this

fear arrived - don’t doubt the price
this is exact, ruins under scarlet & an efficient fist

when the smoothest languages will be carried out
which will be a garden?

too much is delayed to recover ours
& sequences?

this whole sensitivity was lost in the surface
in the shovel of pleasure

rage forms roofs, to persecute, decree models that sweat
& the wall, my winter

the morning was a time of patience, of my colours
the losses, only inclinations

to kiss them and not drink them, with intention
broad with the hour, calm, to be

is mine the fear, when the day goes external
part of the square

feeding material, packing and spillages of strength
in the tide

trees align avenues that wake up wide with distance
a taste draining detail

as if in a dream, a legend fainting amongst facts
or preferring duration

on practice

and slow, mobile, practical
from land, the temporal

continuous exposure of natures
go and go

pages re-enter and speak equally
here, if they demand

extravagence in the body
amplitude of the a

poetries, no excuses
someone feels it in matter

which thing can form
words in blots

fish of Confusion, the cut and more
one old shape

all technologies modify
fragments recovery

more interesting
the intermediate bodies

the houses, automobiles
approximate lucent

which thoughts you speak
and speech be with you

Monday, May 16, 2005

hats poem

Night extends to satisfy the sky
One night hotels excite themselves with argument

Oh, that it presses on my head!
not necessity but forms of presence

The space, the yellow dog, that one iron gate
the brim, a sliding terrazzo

Consider, it was interruption
surrounding time, a house, a dream

Prepare to face order, contact faces
what decree creates the hour, an hour that's whole and works

Days before days

If the confidence of the hour takes the stairs to return
and comes low, the end is average

And help, in my opinion
all these hats relate to something!

together and part

if memory is an aversion of skin
its oil is a determined substance

if flowers are the ones you contact
they will have caused you more pain

were speech that mildewed
it explains the packing of the world

let the negligence in night
separate the dense sighs

what delays explain autumn
that you had been assembling so smoothly

Sunday, May 15, 2005


perforate fear
how they align

extended to
chains companies borders

prohibits repair
layers equip experts

substance ends
arrive, touch chains

easy to
be executed, accumulated

the tangent
of a sigh

Thursday, May 05, 2005

whatever, night comes the cool and I hear the sound, travelling the rev, and I listen, but night doesn't listen, it is and moves until dawn. what if I whisper ... no, even that is not the sound, much too personal. the night revs and that's all ... speak into darkness and all that is is a sound after another sound.

whatever comes next

Monday, May 02, 2005


lines reverberate approaching the runway
lines pick free
lines are bored into extremity
lines speak of a modern remake
they are exhausted by regular features
lines talk bad

lines live not for hobbyists
lines look at serious crime
lines bring to the point
lines wind around corners
they lose it right here
lines sit hard by

lines revive what we are
lines are conflicted and nasty
lines loiter on the board
lines are addictive graphics
they are not always reliable
lines fill with complete disgrace

lines swim in it
lines fill to full
lines rush into disturbed areas
lines volley accusations
they pace about
lines make selves available

lines remember
lines bore
lines fear
lines die
they wait
lines spread out a long distance

lines put on company
lines clutch the forbidden
lines connect with the moving business
lines arrive
they require intimate journeys
lines decay with stuff

lines are touched
lines run softly in a collection
lines can be easy
lines grope for a tangent
they sigh to each other
lines provide uninterrupted service

april gone

april crouches coolest
swings and turns
exists in my face
is troubled and undone
coming from a kind mouth

april is falling down
prolongs and follows
exhales and gathers
burns often bleak and grim

april has been on call
laments and expects
is enacted on by forever
hurries into religion
and peeps out

april swims in its stress
sinks into earth
flings and shouts
connects and departs
is wrought with call

april holds on to play
reverberates and falls
is gilded and dragged
muses upon the kindest

april drifts about fair and cannot say

Sunday, May 01, 2005

what's really going on

Not sure why I bother with this. There must be some reason. The yadda yadda over there never reaches us.

Perhaps because the people in the north think the real weather is there. Here, it's reaching winter and that's what's happening. Don't believe anyone else. Don't believe all that crap about April being the cruellest month and it all being about Spring. Bollocks.

I'm tired of the centre stuff. Tired and bored.( Just as I'm tired and bored of this slight society. Orstraylia. Trying to be Anglash or I-merican). Give it up! We're here, let's get used to it.

Searching for the reason. Weather weird. It should be colder - the swimmers say the water has become suddenly cold late last week. Only someone from the south will understand this. Still feeling the last sparks of summer. Phew-eeh. But at night the nippiest in the air. The moon is becoming a winter moon, cold and clear.

Nothing's reality. But the south is as unreal as the north. Don't believe the hype. We're as real (or unreal) as any. Strange rain, over part of city but still clear around here. I want the cold. I want another season.