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Friday, May 29, 2020
continental version
we are out in the cold again going at it expecting that we may be in for it this time. there is a drowned lamb down in the ditch. augment what we are going to eat. stay candid in this best of all possible worlds. we are okay in paris. london, that whore of a city, had us fooled for so long. inevitably it will spill back into the spew pit from which it came. tonight in the bath i sing songs of abandonment.
¶ 8:58 pm 0 Comments
Thursday, May 28, 2020
town planning
rock and roll to the grave motherfucker. to the grave little man driving in a motorcade with everyone heading to or from an open heart surgery emergency. paramedics climb aboard four legged forest clouds and tattooed sailing ships. akkadakka blares over the stereo just remind everyone where abouts here is.
¶ 6:46 pm 0 Comments
Wednesday, May 27, 2020
milking time
down the hill is the cafe with the best sandwich in this village. i have finally found the spot to ride the wave of writing that comes in with the tide of people on their daily dosage run about town. i make a song of a day so close to the main street. the poet as last night's trodden cockroaches unseen under foot. the lactation frenzy begins.
¶ 8:30 pm 0 Comments
Tuesday, May 26, 2020
my girl don't lie to me
i was born and raised on the outskirts of town in the modern suburban disaster and now i am going down country to suck the fat from this lead bellied land gal named savannah. we are done with fooling around. fun smiles up at us from around the ankle. this will be the new wave micro dose. they will only vaguely remember the dust on the oakleys sitting on the dash of the hilux sr dual cab long tray off road hard living sapping the spinal marrow.
¶ 8:19 pm 0 Comments
Monday, May 25, 2020
don't be afraid to be afraid
there are only the female toxic paralysis ticks and wolf spiders shadow boxing up here. back down in Katoomba it was working for us in the tick the box three hundred a week way. up here it will be us building our own everything with a trickle of a supply so long as the lines are open. you know how quickly they can close.
¶ 6:32 pm 0 Comments
Friday, May 22, 2020
we are dreamers built for pleasure
i shivered the whole night through a cold sweat thinking about our life's triumphs. five high points and innumerable compromises to convenience. we vegetables in the cellar endure. my dear pickle you have never had an aching mind, but you are going to get one. remember where you are now, because we are going to run a bath and then up to the crossroads.
¶ 6:21 pm 0 Comments
Thursday, May 21, 2020
Brobdingnagian
i don't think merely of love satisfied in a studio environment without a view. there are glistening bays, black burnouts, curly lemon twists, cisco sours and leaden hearts becoming not really trifled. love is big big big. so big that the word big is underwhelming, we need the other words.
¶ 6:02 pm 0 Comments
Wednesday, May 20, 2020
street cleaners
we lower the minimum wage of the townsfolk with our volunteering efforts. boxes of poetry are seated solitary and not a powerful thought impels them. only the bald flies laugh at the command to crush passion. flat white and a wholemeal tomato and cheese toastie.
¶ 5:56 pm 0 Comments
Tuesday, May 19, 2020
tutto a posto
if i were a good man i would write to you more often than i do. i cannot feel any pleasure writing this good for nothing autobiographical sci-fi social criticism. won't you sing to me? like i have often said, with the manuscript, it has strengths and weaknesses, but i keep at it. there is some pleasure there. i see you have been busy making worlds. you can see that my world is limited to smiling down my leg, working for the dole and sitting high on a hill. early in the morning i need the power to ride on blind through the sickness. i do not expect ever to recover.
¶ 4:31 am 0 Comments
Monday, May 18, 2020
out with the vinegar
how are you going to grow up if you can see from the car just how shit it all is? from small things big things grow. that is mould. where are her toys? calm down banana dictator the gates of dawn are no place to be a piper. i'll smash your face okay.
¶ 4:16 am 0 Comments
Friday, May 15, 2020
i am still holding onto it
in the absence of practitioners we set up decoys, happenings, smokescreens and openings. don't be coy when the right thing is happening there's only one thing we're smoking and two opening. quickly, we're double parked on old street. take it with you, it's not a book to be studied at neck breaking speed.
¶ 4:07 am 0 Comments
Thursday, May 14, 2020
an old fashioned and manhattan
there is too much floating about for the machine not to make an appearance. even if only in the periphery. take an order. what will we call this one; cocktail waitress. just do whatever it is you need to do that is characteristic of our inmates projections that determine the frequency of your movement so long as you find yourself confined to smiling at roaches stroking everything they can with their antennae. gibbering insects.
¶ 3:52 am 0 Comments
Wednesday, May 13, 2020
the doctor's experimentals jetset bone mind
how are you sleeping?
yeh sure sometimes i get deep rest.
and the self medicating?
only homeopathic doses of all the old gang; caffeine, alcohol, thc etc., for fifteen months now and still counting on fingers and toes. cause getting old is a drag.
what do you want?
an international writers' house on a cliff with no festivals to program rather only productive infants, but that is hard to chew, harder to swallow and dangerous to digest.
what does rubee think?
she would be happy if the old friends stopped coming and encircling the reproductive tract.
¶ 1:32 am 0 Comments
yeh sure sometimes i get deep rest.
and the self medicating?
only homeopathic doses of all the old gang; caffeine, alcohol, thc etc., for fifteen months now and still counting on fingers and toes. cause getting old is a drag.
what do you want?
an international writers' house on a cliff with no festivals to program rather only productive infants, but that is hard to chew, harder to swallow and dangerous to digest.
what does rubee think?
she would be happy if the old friends stopped coming and encircling the reproductive tract.
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
the bridge burns in cold napalm fire
the earth is rhythm. and you get a beat of a norwegian summer and then dissolve back to the earth. consciousness drifting into the big black sky. hold it open for as long as you can and gallop across the flaming rim. i don't know if i can sit still and wait. the cyrillic series is already in the planning. now i am tuning my anchor.
¶ 1:11 am 0 Comments
Monday, May 11, 2020
couch support
i am still at it. sometimes i need only do something for sometime to discover what is missing. I have thought for so long about whether or not i want to keep going. i do want to. why is that not enough? this aging body you see and feel is nothing to be scared of. you said it yourself: share consciousness.
¶ 12:59 am 0 Comments
Friday, May 08, 2020
they will buy your blame
it is okay to pay for poison because you get lots of it. a good deal becomes a justification in itself. maggots feeding on a toxic rat. i hear they put a fence through my spree side berlin office. i was nicely long gone before they put one through my face. such blessings from civilization.
¶ 12:53 am 0 Comments
Thursday, May 07, 2020
stealing thieving appropriating
you've jacked off in the catacombs. you can say what you want but i know you better than i know myself. curse those days and nights under a rat infested rotting bridge. you just need a fence yeh, all you want is a chance, yeh well, what about design, what about using your brain. don't get any big ideas. they're never going to happen. a seventy an hour consultation charge will make all the lice shout. we have been on the breeding grounds for over a year now.
¶ 10:16 pm 0 Comments
Wednesday, May 06, 2020
don't really have to be there for that
at one point the eyes take off from the page and to the street falling upon conversation and letting it slide past seems the best coursing. muttering something about the rights of man, not life, but man, a very particular formation of molecules. peculiar rights of arrangement. yindi! bungool! djama! mooca! come here! the father stage is ready to roll with buggy singing along arnhem hmv. a little world of secret nods and handshakes rambles down the road. organic leavened waftings cross the street with guitar janglings.
¶ 9:59 pm 0 Comments
Tuesday, May 05, 2020
too early
research rest and repair hot the animals are best made. cartilage in the knee is gone. where gone? into the blood jamming down an unwelcome lucidity. it is going to hurt to move that knee. how long must we drag this on. you see the mind is throbbing with sutra. oh yes. yes. oh yes. more. more. yes. god.
¶ 9:53 pm 0 Comments
Monday, May 04, 2020
i need help with my unnamables
language is always changing. death in the summer and any sound pattern resembling so and so blah and blah late night television host interview ends in cadence can no longer be uttered. a call for new uttering new patterns new words. don't be ridiculous. i don't know all the words now, so i have no complaint making new ones. contributions to the mess welcome. in all seriousness, try not to laugh, what are we making from this mess is the question posed. bartleby wanders in a micro desert with tea and ginger biscuits.
¶ 9:31 pm 0 Comments
Friday, May 01, 2020
tell me when
sink the ears into radio clit. bite down on embarrassment. embrace cliché chic and cut off all intermediary contact. just skin on skin from here on in baby.
¶ 10:36 pm 0 Comments