Tuesday, October 27, 2009

The Commons set 3 // 20 - 24

extract the city, extract virtually
blank songs etc, you know what
into ghosts / as a swarm of mouths
wow & / we were redistributed
of golden, springing speech / bells
& rags / inside this arc of fist
we alphabetic insomniac, in as
how old are you, my scratching
splinter, as in a spore heaven
who here can speak / and in what
flickers of ancient power, reference
you are crows, days / ok, have city
or live in it like was eating us
we bottomless trivials / as

BANG / & our musical duty
like right inside it / its flutter
as in zone-traps, full pyro
as in ex-landscape, is thighs
as decibel in slow retreat
RIGHT our cells & sections
in no underwear / biting &
when I was a country girl
a system town, as blow flatter
(o shit) (like sorry about
& are you / my adjustment
the aged parent, so softly
our non-existent whimpers
eclipse / movement / blast

& the cuckoo, as in
our ring of stilettos
its place / in the song
by now / pure cosmosis
nouns / rearranged
at the border / thin
diagrams / spinning
metal / I’ve played
cards / in england
I’ve played / I’ll
bet you ten dollars
here, in 1917, its
chordal flex, its
thin metal spheres

& the crossroads, yeh
in any case, what we
nah, just kidding, yeh
were never obliged, in
the enemy language, not
not what / daren’t say, as
blocked season, or else
the quartier of perdition
or then there’s, clean
& simple numbers, yeh
gardens / is what / or else
or necessary to lie
our slick & delicate sphere
we middle-class / leaking

or so, that we pulled up
our petticoats / entirely
zombie, & so revolving
drunkeness etc / my gold
my winding sheet / give it
but then again / as bruising
& the border is / where what
we three pretty maids / are
where dreamt a dream / &
troubled in my head / as in
my cosmetic knot, my stranger
I used to whip him with a
where we were the description
my petticoat / but not now, so

Sunday, October 11, 2009

The Commons set 3 // 18 - 19

my absence now / I am speaking
as a drugstore here, a constellation,
an irradiation / as in vocal granules
inside the arc of time, becomes
a silent circle / contracted out
the work of destruction, what
constellation, what - weird, these
strange and bitter consummations
have burst into fragments. Sorry
I meant to say centuries, anyway
now that each word is reduced
obviously to money, ie invisibility
inside my stilettos / I meant to say
interchangeable / a din of galaxies

anyway / I just ate the passer-by
via 2 or 3 executive crossroads
known as burning talk / concealed
in the claims made by finks
their preposterous symmetry
strange, flattering numbers / but
- cough -
but as I was out walking, through
our musical positions, we were
sweethearts & membranes
we were sorry and tasteless
we were trickling curfews, but
here, safe inside our offices
we are eating / yes / & feeding