All entries for June 2006
June 29, 2006
it shakes and quakes me, it master–slaves me
…let it thunder to the tune of green–sleeves, hail kissing–comfits and snow eringoes, let there come a tempest of provocation
kissing comfits: did you ever try dunking a potato chip in champagne? it's real crazy!
June 21, 2006
i have been frozen and moulded in statuesque cat form these past few days.
now i shall step down from my papyrus pedestal and resume sleeping near fires. seven thousand words constitue a fragile and undesirable pedestal – hastily baked, i shall bake myself fully on flagstones.
what fine chisel could ever yet cut breath?
sleep is a luxury i can't afford
the man in the moon is my bed and board
June 20, 2006
emerging from the cocoon, i am a hokusai butterfly. i have sufficient leafs for wings, and now all that remains is to etch them. soon i will be able to bask them on a bigger leaf than me, but for now, i flutter…
when i said i needed coffee, i forgot that i also needed jason peirce's band. and now to rest my infra–red eyes. what effect will i have? tomorrow i forecast hurricanes and rain.
June 19, 2006
the task is epic, the figure lies sleepy. unlike the depicted, who sleeps the sleep of the just, or of the exhaustedly adapted corrupt. to remedy my bleached eyes and tingling head, a cafetiere. oh me! how large is my canvas, when i have seven thousand words to play with?
i shall sit and think fondly of sleep while i write. acutely aware of absence, but i shall not absent myself. the task at hand is in hand, in good hands. perhaps we shall convene again when i have dreamed.
June 18, 2006
and from the pub to afternoon tea, where scones are left unguarded and unbuttered..
when the sandwiches are tiny, my criminality reaches inverse proportions. lock up your saucers.
now however, i must transform into an essay butterfly. with papery wings i shall paperily wing it. there are three days and seven thousand words and one man. do not be dismayed when i say peril lurks submarine..
now i'm back in the CM1, civilisedness has become undone
while it may appear that from my appearance i am feral, no wilde, a wilderness dresser – a wildman? – last night in the pub i was the very oscar of cheekiness. we bantered and frolicked, conscious unconscious, i cheated the bar out of a round of drinks, just like my ancestors would have done.
i have said it before on this blog – the only time i'm drink–and–drug–free is when i get my drink and drugs for free – and now i am finally getting to live according to mantra. while nabokov joined me in the pub, as a villain, he was in my pocket, and less terrible than the dark and smoky truth.
farewell, i journey back from essex, the wilderness, a wilde, a wildman.
June 01, 2006
wolf parade are the
band that at the moment i
would like to be in
i practice singing
along sky high and wildly
with a collapsed spine
in this armless chair
i observe my shoulders juggle
an ache back and forth
the laurel bed is
not quite plump enough as yet
for all this resting
bath bathing again
there are only so many
times it can be done
jerry in my eye
i sit relentlessly, the
cosmo's in my limbs
now i shall mount a
motivational treat: a