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Thursday, April 30, 2020
dancing in the dark
you wanted my attention now deal with this. and don't be making claims that i have not been following your subtleties with enough scrutiny. i live the multiple. but if you want me to understand something in a singular way then you had best scream it at me as clearly as you can articulate.
¶ 10:03 pm 0 Comments
Wednesday, April 29, 2020
the monsters all lurch forward together in intention and purpose
not much gets done here because of the neighbors consideration clause. the proximity to others prohibits the doing whatever the fuck one likes inside all day and especially on the weekend. i may as well die on a sunday. saturday preparations are made for the expected food shortages. i do not know where these lies grow. the cold evenings are the best for brisk walks through parks, but they lock them up at sun down. the traveling artist with a good bag of props says to me mind your missing manners like spanners and your life is a rock on a roll.
¶ 8:07 pm 0 Comments
Tuesday, April 28, 2020
too much has become scarcely enough
i sit here and do what no one else in the world can be doing exactly. something different. through repetition a practice is developed. thus a thing is produced. once ripe the fruit falls from the tree and composts. i dream of eden.
¶ 7:48 pm 0 Comments
Monday, April 27, 2020
drink down is the new up
one pound for five liters of natural mineral water. at one hundred and eighty degrees celsius we have one hundred milligrammes of dry residue. thereby we have five hundred milligrammes of dry residue for one pound. contents are nitrate, bicarbonate, chloride, calcium, sulphate, sodium, magnesium, potassium. tap water tells nothing of this. check the water quality in your area thames water. recycled conspiracies containing hormone haecceity. the whirl wind rain water diluted with all that is wrong with this civilization in its death throes.
¶ 7:06 pm 0 Comments
Friday, April 24, 2020
writer seeks pretty young thing to hold yidaki whilst master types
when the twilight begins at three in the afternoon you had better hope for a warm hole to crawl back into and sane neighbors with which the space is closely shared. turn to the dancing spirits. feel more see less. swing those hips and hit those notes. first class breathing. a monkey of letters is chronicling away on the bluebird the greatest headfucks.
¶ 6:47 pm 0 Comments
Thursday, April 23, 2020
do you call anything you value plastic?
wind tree fruit not for nothing you know. a lot of motions to be going through to get to crêpe suzette. a tired and weary world has forgotten its first steps. the naked shoulder promises much of the revealed back. the pain comes from low. the body is of the earth. speak to your mother.
¶ 4:52 am 0 Comments
Wednesday, April 22, 2020
alcohol for timidity
each sentence has the potential to be drawn tight enough to burst into aphorism. the animal is bound in language. the potential is there, but to what ends. i gather up the concepts that nurse animal through nihilism. dance to the pear tree flute. bring those hands together. feel hearts beat side by side.
¶ 4:19 am 0 Comments
Tuesday, April 21, 2020
where is my fucking community?
toast and cheese get me down from the attic most days. i see the squirrels have already collected the nuts to survive winter without huddling up amongst those starved of love. Mary Jane Murray of Taylor had ten sons. i have not met one. when i read your letters a sensation comes over me like fingers between fingers, but larger. if i misplace the letters do i lose the feeling? bottles of piss and jars of spew in a corner. i take the moisture from the atmosphere. i crave bubbles on my tongue and in my head. fill me honey with your soma.
¶ 4:01 am 0 Comments
Monday, April 20, 2020
love in judgement and judgement unto victory
the competition is to see who can go the longest without needing the other; no knocking on the door and complaining or else demanding one arrangement or another. i write my farewell upon the door. i do not want to become too much of a stranger. and perhaps that will alleviate temptation. perhaps these words will be enough of me to satiate the desire to knock. or perhaps they will only fuel the desire. intention is so seldom consequence. celebrate every success no matter how small or incidental. i sit silently listening to the animal throwing themselves around downstairs. i compost myself upon the page. i contain hunger to the word. let this brick wall be a window to my imagination.
¶ 3:48 am 0 Comments
Friday, April 17, 2020
if the dogs jump you in the tube then the pigs get your dna on file
we haven't left the house since we arrived. we dug in like bedbugs. not that we haven't been busy. we have. busy turning this place into a dairy farm. we have been milking ourselves day in day out. corpse of milk fermenting from basement to attic. each storey brings out a different product. in the kitchen we do our guest milking. this week we have a vegan nihilist of a cow from prague. smells of smazak.
¶ 1:14 am 0 Comments
Thursday, April 16, 2020
charred meat sticks
we live otherwise because we have convinced ourselves otherwise. the flesh can be pressed into various shapes. develop an eye to see the invisible. there is a disturbance in the western crown chakra. develop an ear to hear the chant of the masses: join us, join us. remember how to run. our group speak vouchsafe security has turned us to waddlers.
¶ 12:52 am 0 Comments
Wednesday, April 15, 2020
demands
the beat goes on and no one wants to stop it until absolutely necessary. we all exhibit the resistance of a wave in this bunker without light or hope of escape. i pierce the skin to drain the abscess. the frenzy is contagious largely through the sharing of fluids, however given heat the frenzy can also become airborne. i set to crafting arrows of frenzy.
¶ 12:32 am 0 Comments
Tuesday, April 14, 2020
homelessness in a land of plenty has more to say than any of today's academic towers
the feeling that it is okay to sit here and put words out to you washes over me. a window is being kept open. where they do come in, words on a wing. there is much to be grappled with.
¶ 12:16 am 0 Comments
Monday, April 13, 2020
i had to start it somewhere so it started there
hey craig, i could hear you going at it on the bluebird as i turned the corner into linthorpe.
i only heard smetana cruising down the moldau.
how goes the work in progress?
i am sending an hypothesis of what life is going to do for the next year or ten, but definitely no more. maybe the maya knew something we cannot cognize.
sounds like a ten year plan.
save and save and then you can have one of those things and then save and save and tick another want off your list. life is a stroll through a supermarket.
¶ 10:10 pm 0 Comments
i only heard smetana cruising down the moldau.
how goes the work in progress?
i am sending an hypothesis of what life is going to do for the next year or ten, but definitely no more. maybe the maya knew something we cannot cognize.
sounds like a ten year plan.
save and save and then you can have one of those things and then save and save and tick another want off your list. life is a stroll through a supermarket.
Friday, April 10, 2020
how is the homeopathic novella coming along squire?
in the most interior sense of the word knowing, when one encounters the other in a dance on the way round the unfolding then one knows. simply knowledge. one is here. two is here. and so forth. no need to worry about a thing. scrawl your slogan across the world. i love to watch you dance with divinity in your fingertips.
¶ 2:25 am 0 Comments
Wednesday, April 08, 2020
though it is dark
Craig is a frenzied neurotic, who is forever tapping away at some antiquated machine. one has to scream at him what he needs to hear. for his left ear is perpetually blocked with the self produced molten ear lava of the yellow variety. he uses it to walk the walk with the monsters roaring to his left down any roman road and still keep his mind's focus upon hamm and clav. if you are not careful he will manifest a jungian archetype right before your eye holes. then he disappears in the quickness of a turn of the head.
¶ 2:54 am 0 Comments
Tuesday, April 07, 2020
dieing breeds
olive skin and short black hair sitting in her car making complaints. i wonder for what kind of world jacqui was hoping. welcome to tappetyshire. the children are on leashes. if anything rash happens the authorities close the bridge as a contamination safeguard. i blame this olive skinned chauffeur for all of it. at least for bringing me here within this tightly packed flesh twitching with judgement. the suburban castles are patrolled and fortified. entry is recognized simply by the color of feathers.
¶ 2:36 am 0 Comments
Monday, April 06, 2020
the vision of christ thou dost see is my vision's greatest enemy
we are that uncomfortably placed generation that has never had more opportunities or options, but no real idea or sense of relevant contribution. the intensity of the technological revolution is fading fast into a child's sandpit war. i can hear the sand screaming as the old machinery of the imagination takes a hold of me once more. i batter away the hand that lunges out of senseless rage borne upon a horizonless vision. such behavior demonstrates qualities of institutionalization. correct and correct again. richtig und richtiger.
¶ 7:45 am 0 Comments
Friday, April 03, 2020
queen anne
out of the cup of tea and into brick lane. take a stroll through the early morning market thick of it. take a fresh juice and extract yourself. round arnold circus and into columbia road to smell the roses. into hackney city farm for a back brew and bow wow with the ruminants. before we squeeze down broadway wet the lips at the dove. hey jonno one of the good stuff as you please. sure thing eli you can pour the second round, we'll hang around, don't hate us because we are beautiful. anything but that, find something else. lazy and self interested will do. yes we are on our way to london fields. the sun is out and our minds are ready for a burning. day trippers we are. if we ever get there. whenever we get there. whenever we get out of here. ready for the maze of brick and concrete weave a way to dalstone market. overground from here?!? the sun is still out. let's walk up to abney park cemetery and eat more paper. the day becomes the night. the night becomes the day. i am sure we can make finsbury park for sunset. and then what? we'll brave the overground from green lanes to gospel oaks. and if we still have it in us...of course we will. then to president hill. only to tumble back down again into your crescent.
¶ 7:12 am 0 Comments
Thursday, April 02, 2020
the page as a work of the highest of art
the linearity of temporality is page-ended. turn another one and head in another direction. for the sick and tired a single page is enough. negotiating new ideas, having expectations dashed, raising hopes, living out dreams; all of these and more take so much energy and so many pages. crafted word strings printed on a leaf blown in the wind. i gather them up and turn them through my bed of ideas, water and wait with plenty of sunlight. what pages may grow.
¶ 4:49 am 0 Comments
Wednesday, April 01, 2020
from where are you heathen?
in my ivory tower the reel of paper rolls through and out of several typewriters. we start with the twelve point imperial on a rag of a ribbon and work toward the olivetti portable special nine point with a fresh black only ribbon. the animal streaming the screams of a consciousness under constant bombardment of phenomena is the desired bifurcation. the sun offers its last as the clatter of pots and the smell of fats waft upstairs.
¶ 3:15 am 0 Comments