Detrius

the soft able laughter of children
languished around the base
fluffy seawater milling about greened dead trunk
they built the pier so many years ago
and when it burnt logs floated on
the filthy channel grease painted swimmers protect
their health despite the blinding vapour
the sheets of crippling rains fall
and the children stare at the rushing future
the wooden shoes the man gave them
wanted to walk but instead they held them
high above the water and ran for their dear lives
the swans panic chorus threw dust into that afternoon
the lake surface quietly broke into rippling
texture knitted with a precise logo-rhythmic touch
a latent mixture of desire and distrust
erupts with candy selling sold down river gone
water dried and evolution paused while we bake
fruit cake play patty cake in the garden
the summer we spent looking for snakes
the castle in the cloudy day after the knights were slain
the cardboard box burnt with treasure map x spot marks
the slow withdrawal started as the slow worm resigned itself
to the pit we placed it in, inspecting the wall for chinks
the castle placed itself with comfort in a body of clouds
planned by the painters of English countryside five hundred
years since the scars on the legs of schoolboys in summer
the painted cottage and replanted sea creatures and rocks
we seek out that truth, it was never really there
the burner and the old tin sink accepted the compounds
mixed number 6 to number 8 stained the Thames you must
not tell anyone where to find going to hide the boxes
and the taste of Victorian dust was familiar
the overtones of absence lingering upon a future
when it would be swept under old lino
broken at the corner
the rubbish bin with the detrius of the doctors and dentists
the hyperdermics and calipers floated and dug in on the beaches
of normandy the great invasion of the gilded crown of iron
the resilience of Bodacea inscribed here
the actors and tailors in the city cried
as coins rolled down broken roads and into gutters
the children knew they could not swallow
and always wanted to play the villain

Edita and her wonderful lost world

a chimera of exacting beauty
she sits and experiences it all
away from here her wish is for
all that she can get she is
not going to make any first moves
ever

the execution of moments

"the accumulation of moments" is like the mirrored self-facing reflections never understood until it may limp past itself and somehow look back. We catch ourselves out moments later, regretting what was just said, just done; powerless, unable to retreat. Moments are like atoms. They barely exist but on each side of one a dichotomy can safely nest."

The Execution of Moments

1. Passing By

we pass each other in the vipers drain
mere droplets from a jet of venom
exhausted, hanging in the air
so small gravity fails to take
the surging muscular body of the snake
whips at the surface and writhes with sexual menace
the injuries sustained are memorable
huge, stupid, singular
it crashes branches it lies upon
and sleeps for weeks digesting dinner
rancid vapour from its breath corrodes rock
it breath hot as its body has a moulten core
when it coughed flames could pour from its eyes
it turned and looked the fragile orphaned girl
carefully before deciding she was not dinner
it took her in and fed her on feathers
when the dragon died, the girl had spent
years wrestling in the pit in
preparation for the end of the world

Then along came time and
overnight it all changed
in one breath destiny unwound
and lost its way

the girl was now the world and the dragon was gone
she had everything she needed to live for quite long

2. collision

prediction, they say is the collision of now with what is not here yet
the crushing together of bits of time
or the co-existence in space of different things
or the cohesion of truth and decay
or the lost dark dense days we spent underground
waiting to be found
counting the seconds that pass
as though the sound of the drip drip drip
regulated how fast before each moment of time
folded into the next

3. extraction

what comes between now and then?
What debt holds the ground between fond friends?
How do you reconcile between the black and the white
or the fast and the slow or the robust and the delight?

At night we fly down to the sodden lead ground
at light we ascend and blend into the clouds

4. disaster

in the end we face up to ourselves
and then we can no longer fool ourselves
so we give up

the world becomes too dark for the light beams to pierce through
it becomes hard to find the space between moments

5. devolution

the execution of moments
all lined up against the wall
they are shot and fall
one at a time
and buckle as they run out of time
on the way down

Not what you got

Not what you got you know
you know it is what you know
that you have got you know

Not what you know you got
not that its got from
a lot of people you meet who
went out and lined that dark street
they wanted to know what they could
do to compete with the real

Listen to the sound of the beat

Not what you want when you are left
on the left or right on the right
hand signals are nice
not essential but kind
when you live in the arctic
the light in your eyes becomes
alive at night due to the heat
of your heart that most tenacious
part we believe in but do nothing
except complain about it

my heart is broken!
my heart is betrayed!
my heart exploded in my chest!

your heart is on fire with the energy
of the sun

your heart in the privacy of
its fire unreleased keeps
constant

your heart beats

and now its gone from the kick arse rhythm of the street
we wanted to hear from the doctors but they packed a suit
in the boot of that bus and forced lunch and a dance
held on the most elegant farms east of the bridge
the water drifts in a stately still life drama
while nobody is watching the tree leans down and strokes
the stream the wind billowing sighs across
the swallowing surface and the laughing water now cries

your heart beats

Not what you got
you know it is what you know
that you have got to know

your heart beats

Not what you got to know
it is what you
know you got

your heart beats

you know
you never notice
but you know

on them sticks

The drift of the marshes at night
where the walls of litmus slide
over ground amber infinity
grief held back turning into bait
for that evenings fight

a sensible shape
floats along the street
a yellow round soft snow flake
falls relaxes then it accumulates
lifts dirt on the sole of your shoe
leaves you tied to the tracks
your arms spread out just like that
your legs felt like jelly
it makes you giddy like too much telly
it does not matter any way because
they all went away
never understood
never defined

never seemed like that
when we lived on the street behind
the back

It always felt okay
when we breathed
but now you have
left it is hard
to remember when

Silence now
that it fell
from the shelf