| Petrarch 325 Crayoned large enough to impress upon the world & the need to jump off it at the edge of the eye where the cornea meets the A13 this hand is a wing and the other moving in front of the candle too thus painted on the inside of Essex is a bat or a bird where music fears the ground of the stripmalls of Romford & Barking & the light off the Cortinas & breast tops touch the edges of the Thames Delta in the detective novel naked among warm summer leaves boys & goth girls lovely to be fucking great for a while lovely as patchouli oil on a woman called Lora from Birmingham wearing white lipstick in markets & knowing the prices of the grapes & the melons holding black orange pale blue & pink plastic products made in Hong Kong & not failing in conversation reading Marx in the park & touching his cock for all humanity beneath the shade of the trees when we were French & were irresistible when we wrote slogans about the necessity of roughage the sexual imperative & blowing when we were doing this men in polyester in the Caribbean & men in polyester in the shitty peninsular states between guessing & knowing & men smarter than us in mixed fibre suits in lovely buildings going about their business kept on going without our illuminating the insides of unmanageable buildings without sanction or knowledge fucking the destruction of workers’ collectives or non competitive contact sports without loving the money behind which they lay hidden barking worked in the way that a dialect caresses a language & the tanks do not accept it & the pixies & the fairies & elves then come in & their little eyes rolling & the confusion of police dogs their shining fur lovely for an instant to both bite & be bitten 18 Alamo Road London SW19 finds all poets (-ah) sleeping in awe of the washing up rota well sorted & thought possibly utopian & thoughtless forever surfing & outraged in shoes narrow or broad & therefore immune from this system hegemonic & bacterial POETS! DUDES! unconquerable
therein snoring |
|
