Tuesday, November 29, 2016


what is an obsession, anymore and
anyway? the scales of it are both
green with the texture of curren-
cy, and tonic as the octave of my
forgotten folio and having ending

in sight, and sigils-- formerly i
could tend and steal simultaneous
inventions that made me cold, but
becalmed: this was the femininity
bursting forth with the forces of

serene vectors and sketched pass-
ion, that would always exist, al-
though i have become more skepti-
cal as time marches on.. somewhat
blanketed with the junk of ideas;

i don't have to think, or ask my-
self questions, to wrap myself up
in the turmoil of a joke gone too
far-- we are wives' men, all most
confident lame and kings of not a

bridge or its land but the emoti-
onally safe satisfaction which is
imputed by speakers and their ar-
rays of meanings: sun rises east-
erly in order to soothe a troubl-

ed breast with the softly surreal
signals of antediluvian centuries
that barely woke before they were
carried away with mouths and this
hint of bricking seventeenliness.

Thursday, November 17, 2016


euphemist with a cause: black no-
thingness cannot elide the gentle
scents and colours of a year gone
grand, the child's home where the
weary rest from their labours-- a

tree grows in the soil, which has
been nurtured by responsible life
and is not inured to hardship: is
not culpable of the having forgot
what it means to breathe oxygen &

cannot possibly be named in one's
own language-- this takes our god
who is everlasting and true, mak-
er of a threefold chord and ring-
ing out, it entwines us in bliss;

now that i've got my motive clear
i pledge to honour myself and the
mystical other, whether with palm
or psalmistry, because i know one
of you tends the branches of your

revealing science, and whatsoever
vow i make, i surely keep-- haven
awaiting in the kingdom of forev-
er and it subsists within, like a
breeze can blow inside this atmo-

sphere and that atmosphere is not
more or less than a vital whole i
found myself revealed to wherever
the universe is unbroken and good
precious light keeps up a record.

Monday, November 14, 2016


punk has to be somewhat literate,
or it collapses inward spiralling
like the flower of discord assum-
es a second mother tongue for the
benefit of the native assembly, a

mechanics of progressive house to
sit in and be surrounded by-- no-
thing ever arises from the depths
of nonsense to smack you in veins
that were supposed to carry blood

to discrete parts of your body, i
think, and if it did you probably
wouldn't be able to step under or
around the tanktreading immanence
of it or at least without injury;

this is ultimately private: scal-
ar legions and the rule of the a-
bandoned ritual that was formerly
the war, stand up or lie on earth
for a while, you're on the clock,

as it is & can nevertheless still
the moving pictures with this in-
nate sound.. bounce graphics into
artistry with the finesse of let-
tered, flowing people: how are we

going to get them from one nation
to the next? i hid in my admonit-
ions and rediscovered an automat-
ic ascendancy, which was platinum
& weaponised, but i don't use it.