Saturday, January 4, 2014

text || Lawrence Upton



the end of all flesh is come before me

polyvocal

poetry is only light the police hacked
cornflower as spilt seed
drink the light

everybody is in pain
seeming to forage
amorousness asleep

torment out of a lighthouse
smooth light!
imagine

sea wash circuitous
held
there is the noise

the language
sorry to the dead
spilled

calling we
need them
they left us inundated

last rites for a voice
without its next suffering
tears of rectitude

one hardly agrees
a clatter of insula tongue
lies sometimes

love endurable
for a moment
inside peculiarity

hypothesise your interpretation
within the rich fields
incompatible with inspiration

nothing even today wondrous
incompatible with nature
disorder getting named the museum

the museum flowers
camera swims among
churning in scribbled marginalia

hurts increase unsteadily
voices we wrote
parsing groups

of our language
in the long dim
in the electric

but weren't alive
such a fact
in the basis of light

as if the history
of the pile of treasure
built up

into greatness
the mob breaks down
without passion

but we have begun
to be a body
recorded

a staccato brimming
to return a love
every piece of light

the body is
the handle swings over
friendly thieves travelling

across the dizzying torque
we take away
we flew here

with considerable variation
eye unmoving
only one feels

an invented wind instrument
bullet proof
we desire familiarity

an aircraft traverses the world
as desire falls down the dream of dark cause
scattering seed

distances are held
in the story
in our individual breath

words
breaking
light

the language arms
emotional breakdown become
noticeable become audible

names burdened by calling
remain ocean shit surface
fantasise!

everything repeats with the finally well-off
taking root ceremony belief
trappings

don't imagine
they're sexy
the door!

go
quietly
all is aglow

we shall be restrained
lifted by the neck
banging

police in architecture frequently
caterwauling the code
there is only light

they read you are my negative
your rendition of the rat gnawing
feeling well fed

but I have worked harder
the language head off
insensibility seeing ahead

the other side of danger in our individual breath
embedded solutions with love objectified
the wires creaming the body

pieces of light
as desire yields
tendrils

in a precarious situation in the language arms
fumbling a voice without regard
for being out of mind

moon's a mind
eating a hangman's rectitude
that comes to deny a real baby

imagine please
a comet
knew of words

every piece of kin
a stroke
feel the ice

variation
grab hold of
ocean surface

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