long and good a night

it is lovely

this list

i made of suggestions


if what we could do

tonight meant forgetting

the work for hours

passed and to come

it is moving

to hear you

make noises

like chewing from

thoughts gone unexchanged


it is frightening

to think what

is happening to women’s

bodies that are not



it is hopeful to

and it is foolish too

to want


to read to each other aloud

and admire cheekbones on

a screen: bone vibes

lusting tendrils


to want a moment where

we silently remove

uncertainties with a

gentle tweezing motion.

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yet not

bough, breathe , a box, not just yet, but now and then more, a meeting of old and new skins, a silent eyes, clear casing to offer, we protect with our skins, with not-breathing, there are stitches nearby, there are buttons operated, an authority in copper, painless is laughter, we return soon to fold and fold and fold and to turn loving gazes towards machines, the rough between hands and automated across tiles

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a repost and the person who helped me hide the fact

termination a'gree'ments, slaveless historians, a drum organ, literature for white radicals, literature for black radicals, ravitz rule, mock kitten soup neck, steel rod, soft shoe sole, bendy, round caketins, plant stops, no ref free, treasury stamping plant, swinga, hock, burning burning, teen beds, comfort plants, raging plants, stoppers, removing degrees of oppression for all oppression, teen girls, pipe organs, roaches, 'free', molecules, petard, polis abz neutral, orchid piss, refund, teen girl selfies, waterproof mascara [foolproof mascara], 65, 71, 68, gold pan pinch, gold hoops, midway downtown, bridge

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with all spells i am watching

and it is static lean towards a

skyscraper where are dried leaves

stored we too could have choppedfringes

be on water spread out red curtains:::::::

i needle this unnecessary for the conjuring

all foreign words what then i say 'you' [x20]

there is none like that a past can fold seven

times only we can only bend it until drums :::::::

ask me again or again chewing the fountain pens

and then this realisation all is only spat or broken bones

or heretics of ‘false’ ‘revolutions’ and these allergies

reappear cyclically where can we be soft again

or charming where are creaks are songs



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its vengeful defeat
a moment in
comets' hideous

cosmic stars

universe universe universe

in their hell servants
official cell
repetition      gravity

classic my signs
wars no longer
yours returns

some policy

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the paste a tact

only this one maps for spliced of the prints see

to all bears to reach into chimes of the nights

next week see to what we are now calling

historicising of emoji-flares shot to the skies shot

through my heart my heart is the squares of

collected ice shines on the tusks we perform

marionettes swinging wildly through enactments

of mesopotamian once the signed bedsheets

cast off there this stoned house lies among sparkling

the city where the drinks cards are denied

to ballet flats or cardigans we often smell could

iguanas leaving the alley way trailing behind bottles

where bottles stay intact for always be leading ways

to a world away that sits above a hundred and

fifty staircases lined with ceramo///paleo skins sponsored

by shades of deco where the top seller is

something like shatter me or pirates come copulate or

distress signals and here there is much loam

with sky scraps drifting to land on follicles so quietly

while when it is boiled i pinch my thumb and

forefinger and the skin slips off ready for the mushed

congealed heady sauce for the unarmed civilians

twitch a flung flag shrapnel garment into the camps

of enemy officers who then are not holding timpani

tightly but discarded the waistbands idle noisily and i

braid it all i braid it to the death where in fitful

lashes of beads we then seep the sunflower juice through

scars permed through platitudes concealed

forever in oak boxes

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potential blockages

cannot sometimes escape this fact of this place cannot

ever we sometimes escape in a reduction idea of the flattening

where hopefully this is me speaking spit into walls what walls

spit back what rooms exhale with our exasperation while increasing

it to no end and this is a subject-sponge in the empire of closed

\council smokes pipes laced with honey and we the buckets only

draining from autotoxins for whichever movie-heist we are next

to enact to gather up fractions of skin as we can then spirit in to

pods where our bodies no longer or longer more are treacherous

and all outside the towers are only now superficially crumbling

and there these long pauses scarved out of speakers

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On my dawn knuckles the dust from impacts the plenum where sits through textual faults of the machineries . . . there is no day where we are all no way for oomph sutures of incarcerated resin hounds of nightfall . . . for couple extra of bucks you get to keep the hairs plucked behind my genu my genu always in distant memories but for summer and what is the correct way to describe eyes is the way to avoid all persuasion and systematically embers crush us they crush my cranium they sex you up but not me oh gooooooood my box of thumbtacks face down thieved away with travelling troupe of largely swole men who tell me the mark wahlberg in my dream is the mark wahlberg from real life and i can puncture his arms with my box of thumbtacks used with index fingers or ring fingers or pinkies.

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intent, none

we are so

the dead for

glowing boatlamps


intent, unhorsed

skies throw down

the fists of forgotten

threnodic islands


where hellions banished

years of suppuration

clot roads unwalked

unheard we bellow still

my nerves


soon all earwax

in teaspoons doled


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cash an

in my swamps the worst kinds of cocks denied permission we could stay them, gush over tangerine varnish as distraction

i wear only vert lashes

and phlegm peppers my slip

glues it to the outer vests


hounds with no teeth

suckle at their enemies’ vertebrae

who slowly demolish from within

cocks afraid and away


the yachts that say ‘blow me’

up to skies that forgive nothing


where do we identify friendships

when cash is acid

when the hemline economy crashes

and our ankles are the protected souls capital hopes to destroy




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