swept



the blow ins are

exceptional, blows

about the statues,

eyelids agape to

stillness


diffuses the stealth

of cobwebs upon stiff

hedges, ramshackles

those considerable

tree hairdos


writes with litter

swirling their corpses

upend only to dive down,

to pause then are

somersaulting again


“have you always been

this dead?” asks the breeze,

i’m always prancing trying

to undo flowers from their

sexual prevalence


trying to annoy those

kept surfaces of water

into anger, undoing birds

from their balances, i’m

unexpected whilst you


are trying to incite circles

to expel straightness

to rid sameness

maelstrom muddle

an insert of gales


the confusion of

being so still, stood

if standing could be

achieved, atoms

refuse from such sleeps


don’t stir, don’t unstitch

pausing, sloth is rushed

at with hurry, rid me of

death’s slow appetite -


however watchful


there’s not sleep enough

to permafrost waking,

bodies are a struggle of

riotous roots compelled trying


unmask atrocious winter that

delves deeply and makes

morgues of us all so easily,

am built of tired yesterdays


and old fingerprints, don’t fade

let the tornado swell within the

heart’s stubborn terrain, blisses

sweep inland sweep into the


shell’s shudder


“complete me”



towards ending



silence has

a sound a

softened noise

of stillness aching


cemetery stances

in-between the heart’s

striding, there’s a

peaceful bower where


the jugular ends and

the jaguar that seethed

once is stoic as a

slow thing pausing


i am so under that sky

worn away by moths,

every lid weather-

scripted to gasp


can’t quite wake can’t

quite sleep, out there

is a strained beam

and in-between rain


suffice the head-quiet is

a vandal constellation

trying to out planet it’s

unsuccessful burst


3.32 and crows have

managed the bough,

shrugged funeral suits

hunched over watching


gloom’s credit grows, there’s

that hollow beyond the pane

it sits like a stiffness as if

anticipating ending


the wall has fastened

to its vertical trying, 3

clocks gnawing, impatient

it seems for absence


dirges circle the past,

those glassy days are

becoming cataracts,

where does time go -


when spent? sunsets

build into draped ashes

into unspoken eulogies

where those daft spires pierce


am i a crowded-atom’s-worth

that requires it’s energy sucked

to drift wasted, broken and

blissed?


the listener

forsakes voices on

tape, deletes such

cautious vocals


a perfect kind of

falling this, perfected

whilst out grey-gauze

walking


and ether is stalled

no exhale but

scattered letters

in small written fonts


all their tiny heartbreaks


sprawled



reformed rapture



wednesdays until my planet split,

when did eyeliner die? 1996! the mourners

brought out their warped vinyl, played

until needles consumed them


bring out the goths and punks, bury

them safety pin up and two fingered

swearing, original thwarted, stupid

music now groovy-gene-pool-addicted -


not the brightest but dance floor habitual


some say those gazes were too tired to

go on with such dead horizons in sight,

reissues and bad bargains, locusts that

yearn dreadful revival in stubborn decline


cut from the disinterested stream, listening

is elsewhere, often to hearable rubbish, the

scenery has gone back to being bland, what

shone then is redundant a sucked out constellation


thought you’d gone, thought the lid had quite

fallen, late nineties danceable puppets on

all sorts of kites, heads filled soar-able, kissed

out thru by lightening, guitars aren’t or won’t


dig out cascaded, what has been frost annihilated,

exhume, i want the skies that made me dress quite

black, deleted applause bring back, reverse retired

echoes from lyrical flesh wounds, reanimate its clues


a womanly form frozen in a mortuary robe


music now full of holes of inane audibles,

bells drop, invites stoic silence invites

my head dead wired, shrieked birds ruin

every song, gave up belonging, nooses -


carved in listless swans


it was the decade that fell, full of phantom

infection and vile news headlines, remember

it well, decadence in champagne infected

pools, unemployment queued towards the devil


where did i sing too? where did i build the

oyster’s soft walls? bridges about friendships

failed, an overdose of quite meaningless

forays, listened to swallowing bass


listened to the tracks that made later

childhood wreathed and wrought, fucking

loved it, spill myself in tiny deaths, oh

that musical gasp a blaze or orchids


unfinished how i feel, certain your gourmet

voice would shroud me again like it did back

then, souvenirs and heirlooms, peeled

dead posters yellow as nicotine corpses


oh gild me, shrill me sighed and unstable

into moonbeam intrigue into brothel curdle

and cradled, it was the decade that simply

broke, left love twisted hollow and out


thought the wound grown over and tuneless,

gormless airtime shuffles the dead and

repackages the past, then sang thru into the

heart’s audible masks and stiffened into violet


wonderful reminisces, unbury what’s hidden,

turn up the vinyl’s scratches and raucous

re-risen, infuriate the zombie undergrowth

suburbs and all, dead-fly’d and stale room’d


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