Friday, July 06, 2007

From Moths (1999)

Part One: Ip
Many of these lyrics were published by Shearsman in modified versions for which many thanks to the editor

dog worrying

as to why doesn’t worry come down amongst us
between in animal or a better geometric form
from now we’ve time to give over to it and
later we may may not which is the bargain we
birds are perfect happy to perch is
up on me my head one shoulder too
a dog and a baby jesus and in the back yard
pale grey yellowing sub urban light making
the rashness of soil beneath the caution of grass
a baby a dog a muzzle sail cloth &
we two all like laundry all safely all gathered in
and squirrels are contented with what
I have gone and done it so far this project

this is a poem about a coffee machine

vent pipe panel refuse—their
these are relations not always straining by muslin
rain still pushes for it
like dust surrounds a settlement waiting (that’s all a desert is)
steam like an apology
pipe though I still blame
panel you where is the anger
gone refuse to take it I like this
mid to late to winter colour it
is quite a cold actually
some how holds back of grips
may some thing has us snagged

window watching watches windows

many things which get seen from windows
noted down don’t they? painted over by an agent
palm trees skirting this
russet browns and beetles black up
a white arrow below the finch quiver
winding watchow watchding winches I
like it could be one word but just won’t I
shadowing of a primary colour warn
ings in tri angles and in circles
a bear or no perhaps a palette stalking you
in process say it is not the frame shape but the
where or better where you place it better leave it
then when can we choose this? will you help?
later it was earlier but we are modern and can cope


hold stroke my hands sun
dream wind detonate my head blow
gaze moon watch over my eyes halved
mine sea wash away my basin
yours words let me smell your speak
hold hands stroke my hands

it has all which once was over here with me where
I could get at it gone over there where it can get away
agreed it should be worse than it is yet
denying it is bad but couldn’t it be worse however
there is as well sadness as well suffering and sorrow these
no longer is so sublime but that I don’t know them
behold or look a sibilant wishing ‘cross the water

incandescent proposal

the sun is a ring which marries
the taps of timorousness spread out
held up against the blue cubicle (of desire)
like translucent crayfish below as
like the taut surface of the shallow as
hate over shallow lake there is a hotel of aspects
is the cut predicted by the lunch?
you pull at your you once there put
your hand in mine clutch again or
we let off steam sheepishly calling them
our rented boats against a certain future tense
a blue cubicle (of desire) of which in we
they must look through or snap out of this
lots is glimmering underneath these words
hurt breaking from us like to a forest across a clearing past a modern building as potential
it which is a hotel it is an over-swallowed lake
you once put your hand you now should
put up your hand and pull your hand ought
away from it from me your hand
in mine could we once were in your watched
water now we in your hand we are
then is in the forest why early may
the tri angles of our as hotel be hind
leg us now platinum forge a shape
of things to come we could know nothing
each cray fish snap the predicate to cut ups
we eating a dinner given to you in any case
Post a Comment