16.12.08

from naturalised state of emergency

that hell quack boot stomp again
kitchen shakes sprays filth water & cat parts what. What
what is the end Of rolled bubbles, shot eyes, every sharp-slip in the sink
hideous, calm.
what object wants to always fly. what's the biggest angry. what's the most Hurricane yes roll again the tantrum for what. there was no sound - what
should have been known



*



hears & thinks I have spoken
something other than gangrene I
say my lips are peeling & it hurts
to tear the skin. simple rot is
this the utopian sweetbreath the
ladyfighter must ooze or else
could it be! she is only her & what
is without is without is why it hurts
to Say, what am I to say beyond the head
"Drink this & be saved



*



for while I sleep
at bones the slathered pillowcase
my greasy habit hell be silent
for the salt. one drip, two
for wet spots on the nice wall
my shake is quiet, the wound sound
I have no hate I have no hate
I'm sugar with an angel's zero mouth



*



then sleeping among heads, buildings, things. I came here to - but my lungs are Twitched these days & there I choke & leak, rattle, toothgrind with 3,467 skeletons
behind the fridge
whooping blue with burnt hair & paint & glue A Mouth
of scissor blades blest with ash and bone dust -
Cats! Paper balls! arachnids, Everything!
To sleep, to sleep among heads & wool in every orifice I came here
to. but this guerilla nightmath rips up floor & kicks & grabs &
pincushions my kidneys un
still crawling over the body combustible



*



said the basic general sensation
is this is not
who visits the room the hair the poem
needle-theatre pitch or spittle
off the battery sting, that sizzle, bitter,
love or drip turning hair
we'll open the casing & be found, plucked out, used & cast to
to jelly, to irrelevance to drip, err arm length & where are you you
still



*



the basic general sensation is immediate & is morphine & every trace snaps
slow an accordion drag, single burning reel move
(What's Move to broken dogs in the next cubicle
howling on their tubes & tearing from machines
the fireworks Pretty & human as hair.
that long spewed glimmer where I'm tied down & asked my name
The date. This place. what about your head. Do you Can you How do you
mean to calculate the body shake, the nerve zap numbers
What do you mean you're sinking uncontrollably



*



now 416, pettiness, machinery.
we open the casing we discover forks, engine oil, pulmonary indications, crushed buttons. offal, ossicle, epidermal crumbs. &. the suspiciously organized presence of green lines in a row:
grass.
Grass.
its geometry interrupted only by the frights of landscape it projects: pointyhat barley huts, wind farms, electrical pylons. we suspect a haystack lingers & it's already inside with its simulated weltschmerz its urge for digestive well-being. I walk among with my bowel diary, screaming proper algebraic magick, oh, night math, go away. oh shapes, you speakers. this shit for posterity, as prophecy, for mapping omas in the furniture where coins & mice are burrowed, constipated by sea sponge & eager to be found, plucked out, used & used & used til the parts wear, the cavities dry. we will open the casing & husks will tumble out, empty things, awed. & we'll be hungry. & with all this slicing



*



to awake & see
the sudden heart & all its pinholes glowing its hairy spark, the waiting water takes muzg fuzzy with blood & Boring cell flakes, well. Our water hears all skins. It's thinking. Our water thrusts wire into paper, to kneecap. Our water features the stiff dance of barnacled students frotting with txt, what barricade what careful lack of planning what so unlike locked interior & how am I to answer



*



"It was like I was a fake person, like
I didn't really exist. I was just there",
she said of living for so long with a machine
pumping her blood I was quickly removed
& shoved down the throat of Matmos & oh the jelly,
irritating mouth-muck with no words but eroto-gobble
well I have no politic I never said I could do more than pervert
& there's the zero gravity:
come out & undress

untitled (32" x 22")

an oldie (2006)




video
all by me, featuring me making more of me. the ultimate vanity project.