shell of my lamp sounding like a bell! The smell of Satsuma giving my room
something fresh. All the times you have called, collected and signalling
together. The adjustable workings of my typewriter which is now placed in the
perfect position. All of these things.
would peel oranges all day, slowly soaking up the tiny bursts that inflame my
says: ‘he likes me’ with her hair tightly coiled in an old t-shirt of mine. The
wetness of it
not reach into the pillows you so frequently despair of. Waking five years
later to another prospective sleep – I tell all my friends about you.
we name dogs together, the latest being called ‘musket’. How is it I continue
to fit through your kitchen window, there’s a carcass in the fridge tonight.
felt it wrong to disturb it. Please, when we are next in town, get yourself a
key cut. A maintained blade will be sharp, a man on tip-toes watches me count
the day’s take. You are mad to believe that there is no drama here, but thank
you all the same. Your children have accompanied you for tea on a step in the
front garden; it’s sunny at this time. I cannot hear anything from this new
position. Accept my thanks also, a brown corduroy blazer to be worn on Election
Day. I will find you those mirrors we spoke of. I liked the thing. I left the
most beautiful woman to a party filled with adolescents. There has been sex in
toilets. I should never have left her. My sweat falls in trustful swaths – my grey
hairs extracted if they present themselves. My blood is still red, and redder –
as I leap down and across your floor in the agony of an artery. Casey called
for his mother and cried for a year. Palmer would take his hit and disappear
upstairs to masturbate and potentially die alone – this was an obvious strain on
all of us.
The Turncoats of WIndsor
have formed an alliance. Around the base of
the castle’s most obvious tower they have joined hands and refused to move for
several minutes. They have flagrantly ignored the ‘please stay off the grass’
signs. Civilisation is ending where it begun. This sweat is faithful – at night
I sometimes leave you.
lovers – head down in the dirt. There’s some concentration – that is easy to
see. If only we could love those that love us in return. This is a dedication.
If you ignore the rules of this road, there will be no second chances. I have
to be quiet. A lady sleeps. A lady is unwell. I have cleaned the kitchen, in
preparation of her return. This is a form of love. It is physical – I started
to show it, steam made its way into my eyes. The utensils can stab and maim.
Please continue the sound is soothing: the plates crashing and services being
chipped in your haste. Don’t worry – that mark was made one hundred years ago, that
one there, fifty. Three years together for an afternoon spent
crying in the
arms of a blue Peugeot.
You are beautiful – I should have said so.
what is the cost of twenty violins? Do you deceive me? The wood is obviously poor
and the strings are nowhere to be seen, a few left dangerously upwards
disguised on the floor. The deals are made – all week – untiring, constant,
forever passing the terrible reserve and venturing up the abandoned stairs of
an empty bait and tackle shop. I left a party in High Wycombe to return to my
car park in the industrial estate near Lidl.
sandwiches became silent fisherman,
a woman giving out leaflets in a car park above
sea-level. I believe in her likeness, I ignore my own instincts and go the way
she proposes. Now faced with two people, screaming and waving needles – locking
doors. Frantic needles loaded with disease – get comfortable down among the
boils and piles of unwashed clothing.
Take to the trapeze, spider! Where am I going to put you? Your web
in the afternoon. The stacking of egg-boxes for still-life observation – cigar boxes
for the placing of special things whilst on expedition somewhere. All the
different scissors, their different uses but ultimately singular existence. My
interests are merging, colliding violently in some lapse of time and
recognition. No visions. No auditory hallucinations. No machinations of any
kind. Only this moment, spent here, silently with you.