garrulous seamen chew tobacco in dockside tavern
spit with gusto.
generally carouse.
a man plays the squeezebox.
what can you see?
i don't want to break the spell
Circe, leave me
moonbat. timid calf.
glazed ham.
why so anxious?
what gnaws?
who knows.
subsisting on diet of coffee and cigerettes
untangle the labyrinth. make the crooked path straight.
still the leaping heart.
a new strength. sullen introvert. choking on guilt and phlegm
grows wings-escapes fate, laughing....




to reconcile your desires with your conscience
I got that from Ellroy
then all energy is at your disposal
obesquious reality bends to your will

the act of attention, magnified
fairy wren on bird wire
bull mastiff tows owner over scruffy common
dogshit in patchy grass-
the billowing air
the billowing air.

open field, there is nowhere you cannot travel
nothing you cannot achieve
stake your claim.
ah yes, this is the very role I have been waiting for
the costume fits like a glove
it is uncanny.
I was waiting, you understand, for time to catch up with me.
The feeling when at last we fell into sync was overwhelming
a giant lurching surge of libido crashed over me
and carried me along with it.
Ever since I have been history’s passenger.
My visage becomes more hawklike,  the skin tightens, hard eyes glint wickedly in the light flashes.
Quite imperious.
and it speaks through me
and people listen
‘it is embodied in him’
I rather enjoy my new status and lord it over all those who sought to belittle me
when I was poor and struggling and deeply embittered.
Most satisying.
Of course, sometimes I find myself panicking
I cannot slow the momentum, events have a force of their own
in a sense I have lost all autonomy, my actions are no longer my own
the reverse of this-
thou art that
I am drawn inextricably towards my heart’s desire.
is this determinism, to live out one’s destiny without flinching?
without regret or ambivalence,
or just the will grown singlepointed and all powerful
till it leads not just the man but the moment.

dockleaf and dandelion, burdock and birch.
fleasbane and alderwood, cymbaline and
hark! what’s that? a bassoon? at this hour?

Damn you Audrey!

petals on raindark pavingstone.
softness of petal. hardness of wet stone.
ephemerality of petal. permanance of stone.
the cut stone. the grown petal.
white petal. dark stone.
petalstone petalstone

my heart shudders and starts.


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