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Tuesday, December 31, 2019
anna my dear,
the southern hand hurts. It feels like a strained wrist. I want to tear myself out of this skin I am in, because I cannot wash this filth away. The Americas, with their new world order, is tattooed into my skin. What have they got to do with nazism? They were beat in the war. Now we just go on doing everything we were before confirmed in our victory. Then some crazy mofo starts in shooting up schools and we ask ourselves how did this happen? We are angry and confused. Those we trust and respect can no longer look us in the eyes. Why would they lie to us when all we wanted was to believe? We would have believed the truth. What have victors to fear? Now we fear ourselves; our neighbours and our families. The southern land hurts.
290319
¶ 9:31 pm 0 Comments
290319
Monday, December 30, 2019
isle of the dead
In five minutes the playground will be clear. The bell goes. The day is dust. Now we have to make our own children. I can hear the thoughts bounce back from the far school wall.
¶ 9:28 pm 0 Comments
Friday, December 27, 2019
Königsberg
the typewriter striking the page becomes the rain drops that keep the silence at sufficient length so that the mind may walk along a trail of thought. and upon that trail pause for a moment to pick up a stone and send it skipping across the still waters of the lake. there needs to be repetition in routine and difference in repetition. whatever did Kant see on those morning walks? did Hannah A. ever pass over that same old ground?
¶ 7:32 am 0 Comments
Thursday, December 26, 2019
#fakenews
Life has slowed to a stop. There is nothing new to be reported on. Any excitement is mass produced myopia.
¶ 9:24 pm 0 Comments
Wednesday, December 25, 2019
inert animal
something gives the feeling of being completed in all of this sweet time dripping lovelies and disparities upon all that is not special about any of us crying out from the essential lusting self 'we demand a full stop' a place to breathe within the narratives held above or inside our heads condensing the best we could would and should not there here or anywhere
¶ 9:17 pm 0 Comments
Tuesday, December 24, 2019
Stamford Hill
A window sanctuary has turned up for habitation. Thirteen typewriters on fleabay at shoreditch has me stroking this addiction still. It drives me further in. They are sitting eighty meters from an old roman road remained arterial without an expression of interest. I hear thoughts marching in circles. Uniform grey in motion. I could stay here another six months at this window alone. There is at least two hundred pages to be plucked out of the air here. Two or three chapters a week. Two thousand words a day. A productive machine of flagellation.
¶ 5:50 am 0 Comments
Monday, December 23, 2019
londonium
god's children are fighting amongst themselves out of miscomprehension. too many lives of desire packed in here squeezes out all compassion. crime as career is huge here. when the reality of too many people too close for comfort is up your nose the system has never seemed so abstract.
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Friday, December 20, 2019
sit on that
your beckett influence is fading. what you have been reading recently is obviously filtering through in your letters. for all action is contingent.
¶ 5:43 am 0 Comments
Thursday, December 19, 2019
stay back after school and pick up litter
who wants a teacher's attention? the teachers seem to need just as much teaching in their role as fear inspiring child eater.
¶ 5:33 am 0 Comments
Wednesday, December 18, 2019
warragamba wallacia blacksland
the world comes in waves in rainbows in sensations in feelings in thoughts in concern in pipes that lead to a tap that drips and drips and drips onto the stone of a page in the book of earth.
¶ 5:26 am 0 Comments
Tuesday, December 17, 2019
say a sentence hit the bell meditate repeat
holding you this way and begging you to stay.
ding
¶ 5:17 am 0 Comments
ding
Monday, December 16, 2019
best memory being in bed this moment
but nietzsche, surely being is enough, becoming asks too much all at once... what if one cannot even get it together for being?
¶ 5:13 am 0 Comments
Friday, December 13, 2019
there's a crack in the union jack
the feet landing on steps send reverberations through the wooden floorboards and up through the wooden chair to play out in the concert hall that is my ivory dungeon. it still has a crack in it where the sun and rain does come through from the moment where my skull met with pavement as the front bicycle wheel met with orders from the universe to stop suddenly thus heaving my animal over the inert handlebars.
¶ 3:42 am 0 Comments
Thursday, December 12, 2019
the multi national karmal thermal co.
poly mathical undulation or imbecility turned artistic tragedy? hard to tell in these decadent days soon to become other as we crash through the energy threshold.
¶ 3:31 am 0 Comments
Wednesday, December 11, 2019
and they all fit together so nicely
wear your face of responsibility. i am a teacher. i am a barrister. i am a kabbalist. i am flesh.
¶ 3:29 am 0 Comments
Tuesday, December 10, 2019
angewohnt
knock knock.
attempted interruption #1.
push push.
attempted interruption #2 and this time from within.
an idea stumbles into the room. wait. no. it was always there.
always there?
it's been here as long as i have.
did i bring it with me?
or it brought me???
another meat stick in a sea of ideas screaming consciousness!
¶ 3:15 am 0 Comments
attempted interruption #1.
push push.
attempted interruption #2 and this time from within.
an idea stumbles into the room. wait. no. it was always there.
always there?
it's been here as long as i have.
did i bring it with me?
or it brought me???
another meat stick in a sea of ideas screaming consciousness!
Monday, December 09, 2019
half six
i sit down on monday mornings wondering what is so abhorrent about the world we have created. i don't yet have to pretend that it is all okay and trundle off to a job that keeps things as merry as they are. there is a little time yet left to wonder.
¶ 2:08 am 0 Comments
Friday, December 06, 2019
Tunnels
No good as in to a good as in to a good as in to a good no good.
Did you have not made myself.
And again.
Did you have not too?
¶ 7:10 pm 0 Comments
Did you have not made myself.
And again.
Did you have not too?
Thursday, December 05, 2019
in the right hands
the sun shines. the ice melts. slowly slowly. the light comes on after all this time. what was wrong? who knows. bad connection. like missing the train or hanging around in an airport terminal. a buzzing sound. live wire stops a heart.
¶ 9:44 pm 0 Comments
Monday, December 02, 2019
push past the point where it is impossible to be taken seriously
there are those who live as parasites, because they can. they want to so desperately live from the throbbing pulse of someone else's production. kill the calf and steal the milk. chain the cow to the stable and attach a machine to the teats. grow the fear of the audacious and frivolous activities of which the herd mentality is capable.
¶ 2:04 am 0 Comments