08.30.23
Just go to sleep what is that sound?
The sound implodes more like
gunshot than firework more foot-
ball than soccer because words do cleave
the producer from the land
the lover from the rope the sweet sweet
duration of a head sliced clean off
pushing up daisies in this ex- and non-ex
council estate where half the flats are
sold off but all still have pre-paid
premium rate electricity and gas meters
still, the College TRAC team are never
going to receive this Time Allocation
Schedule from me, sing it with me
The squirrels play a hopeful game
Under new King Chuckie’s reign
They cannot organize their thoughts
but they can chase freely across trees
while we reconfigure here
under the repurposed archway of a
grain store where everything is still
so expensive, so dour, and so poor
made unspecific except for us, immobile
wondering what happens next
Just go to sleep what is that sound?
Experience or domination by things?
A new Public Order Bill says
you can protest but not disrupt.
The birds make their nest
In the disused water tower. They know
they too will be pushing up daisies
singing, that empire is falling
pushing for the most outrageous faggot’s
wisdom, vying for everything, rounding
up henchmen, burning down Elon
no elan, they’ll sing to that cell tower disguised as a tree
they’ll get the Time Allocation Schedule
from me with commission and return
my hours in full. I would like to sit in a
Trap beat half cow half fish, and
Feel whatever is impermissible or
flawless with my entire body as in
drop to the ground in a pile of sand
down the folds of an English vale or
find some other way to, like all us sweet
chicks, get repeated
thus repeat on myself
spinning around the sun
re-joining the tenant union
For it all to un-happen then re-occur
To show these fuckwads that what they do
And that what they do
is do it,
dare me,
or do one yourself
under this vintage Edison bulb and delayed
profitability crisis, passé now, is fine since
as Jack Lemmon observes in Glen Garry Glen Ross
there’s a non-disclosure agreement
It’s not so bad! But
the prospect of winning
seems unlikely today
sweet earth sinking unto me
to have freedom and then be tied
to be loose and then stretch
to interject say hey that’s natural
and for that to be a statement of fact only
from Lee Ann’s window a plane crosses a flag
or is it a plain of yellow Kansas wheat
an unnatural scene, not Nebraska, South Dakota,
somewhere west of the Mississippi River
a pail of light, North Dakota, Montana
where wheat is also the primary crop
take my thigh in one hand and
substitute it for the other
bright green fields reassuringly enclosed
as in Constable’s Dedham Vale
how free my loved ones have made me
en plein air in Mattapoisett
Is my trust misplaced
Is Violet dead?
Come to me, babe
on the inside of my hand—
Though the earth won’t
let you go, I heard
Someone was having a party
there in that Vulture article
but no one was celebrating how
they could’ve been happy. I could be?
If I could learn to avoid
the periphery of the rectangle
Of grease on a formica table
when deadpan Amelia Dimoldenberg
on Chicken Shop Date tells Aitch
he is nothing but a prawn
It’s proximity to prawn she wants
and realistically juicy this time, and
It’s true how white girls stay white
girls even when they try, and
it’s true I wrote a poem titled
Sonnet: Suck My Big Cock
then dedicated it to myself
Like a futures forecaster for Big Oil
Who’s that? Yes I am a big dick
Look, it’s my day of visibility and
it’s me who’s that slut talking shit
On the upright pussy canal
Unaffected and therefore unharmed
A wannabe Candi Staton, or
Kim Gordon working in a chicken factory
or one that sells oil filters for diesel
vehicles, it’s me who’s that Renault Clio
Toyota Toothbreaker
JCB Edgelord
Vehicular, transformed, systematic
a monstrous accomplice just-in-time yet
unable to come at the same time as you
but it’s ok, hm
It’s me who’s that so when I first fell in love
I felt invincible
fully caring about them, doing things
I felt I could see myself
I felt I could fill my self fully in my life
doing things like sleeping
When I first fell in love I felt invincible. I felt I could see myself
fully in my life, doing things and fully sleeping around them,
caring about them