a moving permanent con
juncture moving in me
daguerrotype sprite
in 8bit landscape
whose nails are flakes
whose taut gauze of self
with shit for thought
sees other streamer ones
graciously cut thru stone
to relay what is common
trying to hang on
to the suns grey spokes
in the great among
trying to hang on
by a screwdriver
jammed into a power
socket and being held
thru the snoot
to the magenta eye
of the beamer
always bracketed
with no abatement
in one of them nested nets
by the arc station
which is also about
having a numb face
and hyperventilating
in a barrel and
a safe onward journey
and breathe normally
burn and run
abolish rhetoric with
mega exaggeration
a weak invincibility
miscoded as mercury
dodging the whipping systems
randomly configured each time
on vortex isle
veiled in stolen stone
to replace weight
of vanished glacier get into it
double the verge over
to make time possible
in the big silent bag of gab
and acid and gas and nailbombs
and artificial macrobe meteor
shower against innocent ppl
pursuing their fixations
as we saw above
though the image shifts
as virus slowly covers the pane
crushing out that circuit
that stretched out the earth
given the boot by bot
which connex to prev.
im laughing with my feels
, bearing, in mind,
that the nearest exit
may open into a pyrex throat
choking on own saliva
tethered by a hooked
barbed chain of indirect
objects laid out on
york stone crazy paving
hence doomed to nullity
, the marble busts concurred
yet the more i read
the more i questioned
this story based on
the murders at spurs end
grey sheds emerge
from grey fog
minor yet total
forced back out thru
rare books and manuscripts
to the lives innumerable
oer horizon
where we go then
with wirecutters and signs
blown over, couches dumped
to block the completion
of any one grammar
as we saw above
like the partition ambit
of red-gold hair fire
recommending exsomatism
with no abatement
to us us who
piss on all posts
already pissed on
who plant new posts
to piss on and
take powerless naps
on lawnless lawn
thrumming with silks
then wake up
sortes rihannanae
sortes beyoncénae
come out pull out
feet high up in the ground
pay also with nonmoney
for the sacks of white
paint we like to drive thru
and the other things
we tend to name to become
as we simulcast our
unrequited love for domination
live on the incline
how it gathers at
a certain arbitrary point
to spazz with hetty the pink-faced
doe-eyed vacuum cleaner
while other paths led otherwhere
and the dust is air-blasted off
and the crowding chatting bodies
who violated each other into ppl
are etched into light
over drinks at opening
nth mercenary hailed as hero
selling jellyfish just his day job
rules of civilian slaughter
questioned by professor
of american global interest
studies romping in harrowed
open cold playground
had his uncle hung in 2013
after a collective hallucination
led to collapse of the front
other ppl in other buildings
go thru same process
of no moment
horizontal sludge-puzzle
always bracketed no
more than a symbolic
gesture propping us down
feet high up in the ground
while we mull our next
error, this one
minor yet total
to be laid out
in a play on
a stage in a
city on a planet
in the distant future
here are 6000 generations
of electronic devices
made of rare earth minerals
mined by poisoned baby
slaves for you to use
on vortex isle while
you wait, like notebook
and the ppl out walking
through games of debt and prams
who left megamart countryside
to be rug gitter filament
to present in this quiet
sprawling light momentous
field of indulgence
and courteously share toxins
to right our sadness
in the mild indignity of spring
and you move thru too
light as a soiled nappy
perched unspecial thx to splint
in its senseless breadth
sipping faces and bricks
and colour in the soft pleasure
of separation and bottlenecks
and disregarded local regulation
beak to button beak to button
and they have an organ
that snatches your life
and death and spits out
nothing but gauze letters spent
fuel tanks and decommissioned
satellites to which you
add something else
no the other other
mudding up my screen
showing mums anguish
returning from
commendation ceremony
thumbs hooked in belt
to word-dart
the dumb animal of you
half baby half washed-up
fuddy-duddy handled
with kid gloves whom
they taught to kill
with white vinyl love
and a certain taut
enunciation of success
in soft bunker of hatred
with vulnerable armoury out
back of the imperial garden
where lanced lion vomits
and what look like postures
are forms of survival
bodies configured and patched
all over with wily vacuums
faces grazed by black
plastic and rots condensation
fed cardboard and caulk
with side of human liver
sauce taking notes together
and taking notes apart and
scrambling to hand them on
to the mounted slumlords
trampling us down we
cannot wait to know
first exterminate
then negotiate
tombs strewn like grains
of silicon, marble-still
the welter of them
clinking where you are
in the exclave outdoor
studio, making ‘work’
before sense and after
edging fence
marks boundary
between trash and trash
but marks are beautiful
punctuating anywhere
in the open haunted still
near amenities zone run bare
as by cattle and lightly
trashed and open and wide
and covered in a thin
off-white shimmering
web of human trash
improving dust and dirt
with punctuation anywhere
for the gutted griefing-chines
adrift in total metaphor
waiting, like notebook
under moderate haze
of off-white human trash
spaced through the buss
paperback third gear
and other obliquities
held out of frame
or mounted over crossing
as homing missiles chase
each other some are
passenger missiles
service terrible
target random
but tickets cheap
we continue to respond
to the unprecedented
with staggered gossip
scared as catalogues
patient as construction waste
clinking down debris chute
toward photocopied earth
and its pitiless chains
engulfed in ppl heaping
up loss that gathers
vanishes gathers inside
a vacpacked latex sack of
body parts metal vents
plush pleats and dwellings
made of rain-dried toilet
tissue strung over fallen
twigs and rolodex implanted
near kidney field
dumb alive and bare
im times media
not write-protected
writing soft cream jelly
from land of darkness
forest of abkhazia
for surveillance cameras
i gift hardness
to the tender of scars
that are still wounds
and return the stare
of the escape chair
on the mezzanine
bail water bright into sea
hold anus up to cupola
hole that lets light in
speed up speed up
flash of mirrors then black