Friday, June 13, 2008

Commons 25 - 31

black is the colour of my
gestural forthrightness -
gently drops the rain
cold blows the wind:
in May 1968, most
young people were working in
Woolworth’s, the cosmetics counter
was so adventurous, a
cloister of learning &
trust, all was represental-
cold / blows the future
ballads of the
my true love

if I were like city girls
with few enquiries
transformed into normality
- red etc -
some call it the road to heaven.
Goodbye / sweethearts & pals,
a word of explanation
in preternatural rain, grazing
on the passer-by’s
gestures & curses
inside statistical
seven, singing lke thrushes
when sickness / came to our
execrable opinions

But I’m counting your heads
as I’m making the beds -
the ‘burning’ has been ‘stashed’
below a ‘rent system’, call it
the ‘it’ banking -
to the health of all such bastards,
that one, bleatheth after lambs
wing a ring of, edited
with an introduction by
‘got my goose of English’
all the night through
then I took up a cauldren
& you yell

she was turning red /
the voice of our political poets
increasingly the voice of
it does you too
& secretly the word
the london hanged
how to treat them,
anxiety linked to
his autobigraphy
referred to in
I dare you

ok, say magiazine
- the sobriety
does it all, does it stuff
opinions, but
avarice / in english
ok, who - ?
goodbye / or
cold / bother
gonna build me a
the wind shall blow
all abuse, the
inside every for me
as is
the or a

There was an old prophecy
found in a bog,
its been traditional or
call it zombies
singing like thushes
where scorn was:
if I was like city rain
inside your aged banking
in rent shadow, below
we’ve got, his bastards
just shot us
everything, in its trembling
transferred to tides, but
we shall have commissions galore.

The most talked about
anxiety, the heresy that
‘they’ appropriated the words
‘my enemies’. really
I can’t say it,
‘normalise’ is easier, or
do your duty, dogs
of saturn, in Poundstretcher
and the sea,
where we were refused,
appropriately, the management
identity, a huge circle
repeating cheap wine
& the moon

1 comment:

Jo Lindsay Walton said...

yeh & that dawn chorus of zombies has stayed with me a little more than I'd've liked