aerated to the hilt, there were no pigeonholes left when I arrived, so through the arcade of shuttle I traipsed
to the cranky haunts known by heart
adding footnotes to any caricature
to slink behind the stage-managed
and blow the cover of shadows, perhaps to fudge even that
symptoms mime a certain lack of punctuation leaving fingers crossed
a thingummyjig-ism
did I ever mention coming clean as a speech impediment
in my attempts to get off spiel I still require proof-reading
as I skate on double edged blades / a dishevelled premonition
the apparition that your voice became
with fingers in your ears, attentive fantasies trespassed on each other’s lusts, calling over cautious tributes to lost lovers, from the tannoy of the soul, flexing timely muscles disguised as miracles in the hat and beard so befitting my sensibilities, then at the peak of retreat comes faulty blossoming
when you recite the word ‘shimmering’- shimmering, shimmering – you say, the very ‘mmmm’s’ moved me, layers of light found the sound in you, in that moment I knew that ‘when’ didn’t exist
when you go skating on footnotes
telling it as it is
all punctuation heads for the bottle
perhaps you never had to cross your fingers before a blade
perhaps you never peaked at dishevelment
I’m assuming you cast me to skate upon
talk to the wall
feel the drag that waters me down
and skirts around multiple
self-raising, self-rafting
ever the heavy-handed repent
at the sight of dismantled scaffolding
even you took anatomy lessons just in case
such paper-thin tenacity
signals the carcass to breath
and without splitting silence
into be-and-quiet
your echo retaliates
did you know there is a warrant out for your (in)sensitivities
multiple choice fluency – cancel all sweetnothings
whose plight tacks down ditto
smacks of fake mimicry,
travesty
hit it off
bickering about how even the keel is
in a lopsided rapture
a photo-finish flush with redress
no refund of identity, the ocean can’t be bargained with
or sneezed at
towering over your shortfall
manikin idolised
a second fiddle’s worth of shabbiness
boils down to a
concrete bubble
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Friday, May 09, 2008
trip with sincerity
mutually recovered after capsize, let’s pester convention for disenchantment’s narrative, unresolved as it may be
is there still time?
after the illusions of centuries
becoming suspicious of irony in general
retelling excuses to the mortification of someone
to whom everything was miraculous, crouching closest to all the plucky strangers asking for freedoms
scarcity constricts what might appear bittersweet
making a crossing from the minutiae that double parks on my defences
to shooting down
or maybe just frisking, all euphemisms for the direct opposite
and being a dead-ringer for a burst bubble, I wonder if a motley crew of chameleons should learn to diversify
or, before the inevitable, wangle a better deal on costumes
from the not understood, not still standing, point of realisation that to be who you are is not up for debate
in this moment, in this moment only, does I know I as two marks in the alphabet of being
is there still time?
after the illusions of centuries
becoming suspicious of irony in general
retelling excuses to the mortification of someone
to whom everything was miraculous, crouching closest to all the plucky strangers asking for freedoms
scarcity constricts what might appear bittersweet
making a crossing from the minutiae that double parks on my defences
to shooting down
or maybe just frisking, all euphemisms for the direct opposite
and being a dead-ringer for a burst bubble, I wonder if a motley crew of chameleons should learn to diversify
or, before the inevitable, wangle a better deal on costumes
from the not understood, not still standing, point of realisation that to be who you are is not up for debate
in this moment, in this moment only, does I know I as two marks in the alphabet of being
Thursday, May 01, 2008
something vague in agreement
uncertainty: the not fully confident, not fully fidentally conned
like the banter between me and em
“oh sure” they say
on the verge of sincerity
is a ledge marked “don’t trip!”
from the sheer face of taunt
I reached no agreement with myself
to succeed in touching
while being inundated with obscurity that melts before wrapped up descriptions of excessive prescience - useful, but interrupted
lurid light shone up through the ground of having to bear
in the early days of holding white you used to fascinate even what was lost to you and still you didn’t understand that interminable pattern
and still I didn’t understand
all this was an attempt to trust something vague
something vague in agreement
vying for inundated, fully confident banter
between, say, a face marked by touch and
a face marked by interruptions shone on understanding,
interminably early, still you verge on bearing all attempts at description, holding used patterns over a ledge so narrow there is no room to trip with sincerity
like the banter between me and em
“oh sure” they say
on the verge of sincerity
is a ledge marked “don’t trip!”
from the sheer face of taunt
I reached no agreement with myself
to succeed in touching
while being inundated with obscurity that melts before wrapped up descriptions of excessive prescience - useful, but interrupted
lurid light shone up through the ground of having to bear
in the early days of holding white you used to fascinate even what was lost to you and still you didn’t understand that interminable pattern
and still I didn’t understand
all this was an attempt to trust something vague
something vague in agreement
vying for inundated, fully confident banter
between, say, a face marked by touch and
a face marked by interruptions shone on understanding,
interminably early, still you verge on bearing all attempts at description, holding used patterns over a ledge so narrow there is no room to trip with sincerity
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