Sunday, 29 July 2018


i am letting you in / this is my out /
there is no more redundancy with you /
heavens / capillaries / sunsets / discos /
will you make me bloated again / like rain / or war /
the b-side to your touch / grin and caress / care more than less / 
if this is your dreaming / please solve my mystery /
and whisper / what comes after a fix /  

Wednesday, 14 March 2018


he is so hung up on smells / that blood leaves no colour
he remembers his father as a fork / stuck on a tongue
when he bleeds / he is deaf

Wednesday, 18 October 2017



soft scrub and no lotion / witches promise wreck the potion


robotic to the bottom of this kiss that we have shared now beyond invention / your eyes: leaf green /

take this poem / and butter your bread
take this poem / and reject its fallacy
be the one to believe / that it needs no other beginning /
than you / pouring your heart into it /
to fill every crack of its lacking and wanting / with a love which it itself cannot speak of /
let it begin with you / so that we, the vicarious writer of it / can step out of it /
and take in its beauty / as it (supposedly) unfolds /
and move into the other / the counter-zone / our judgment, our love /
you know, every poem breaks, like us, into pieces / in order to
seem momentarily less insignificant / this is called processing /
this is where we meet: / we are useless to you because we do not understand /
you are useless to us because we cannot make you understand / we draw counter measures /
pulp children / stretching out on not-yet playgrounds / to contemplate the importance
of futures / to make papa
cry / to make papa laugh / make his pulp bones cherish his pulp effort /

bones wishing to be numbered / as necklaces


have you ever felt so beside yourself that you became the person standing next to you / like a heart that is driven by fear will never know love etc / 


Sunday, 11 December 2016


everything is beside you
all yes familiar constellations groaning with tired resentment
no one to really disappoint anymore
falling in love has become a habit
courtesy of craft beer and talk and talk and yes
and you and it all yes we know, don’t we, i know
and my love is dying

i can only give you pieces of me, scraped off a mirror
with a tongue

must be a dead tongue

i applaud with no hands
in no forest, no seasons, just
resounding with customary cancer

i play fancy dress:

30 million renditions of Elvis
will leave you longing

what part of me can i still hand you
and have you surprised
must it be the very last (how can anyone know)
and if you accept
must we not still weep:

there goes history, inhabited by fools
and a ghoul

Saturday, 26 November 2016



short docu on prison life in Rodeo II outside Caracas
auto-translated into English from Spanish by Youtube

* - ∞ 

here not good breath / savior palmieri that abound host six years of avellino / Guests at the first penalty of the day August 1 / dilandau lavalavalove ios / ayrton fighettini the Calabria region if the public transforms or bet that / tests or common maximum follow / the maximum speed / kia ora / It will form a number vodafone April 9 saint / una palabra de dios / levitra is on / sion inflammatory edema are a bit `colors / Miracle give thanks publisher of paris / with the hopes that once the 7 torrent what changes / palagonia I lost one / I invite you to see the video with translation // Italian stock exchange and passion / los angeles lakers / 4 meters are / govern good you also win if you want it / Full web system found / good race 4 / sos trader & passion Forums agree / words of love via marco polo footrests / vitamins the postscript / Moreover, criminal oragano only half modà at home / ccleaner free ccleaner ccleaner / text girl / on the table in the map Spain savoca paleocapa savona / Salento tried owners / volleyball parma / if my dictionary reserve life / votes parma-chievo ferrara time and even text / aretusa sports tracker / becomes a king dawn myth / jacket make some girl I do not have / valentine promo / - Romolo parallel / bad / raynair / courier / mine / electric generators with a Thermomix / apart from the net and gross and logos nicoletta / Poodle that arose canapise fuller traffic in love within weeks / houston - could was carlo which will be a weekend fabio bald at you I / even if Nuba won and criminal / naked / and `important that I know where to spend as much / abidal hello kitty to induced stress Scudetto oregano decrees that die / actually book club review ostia / nole petardino if Meten Comsubin set in the said // 3 bologna of the Night / rome monuments / I think we take the Law / milan, / mulla mulla / surprised with the manna / holy village in the Veneto region and if the Navy rock / Chronicle - baby down / I know I love him, run / Caesar Cremonini, I die it will be a nice renè rausch love by, wallpaper / diana - a photoshop online start a naval victory arno great alarm / His family majesty that will mmmmm / But change is not comparable to mentone / Download this lovely sara carbonero // you facebook / if the sleeping in general. / andrea referendum exact air tonight, rt work uses diarrhea is a / Yara now viagra viagra viagra viagra viagra online viagra charles baudelaire // 1 place / the world is not going by train / if Peter Pan. / Manassero church does not feel the skills to be a good 2000 bear / download eMule leopoldo only atac in it / I love Amber cast paola touch places clear of the bounty. / I love outube fumandosi arriving one thing to be equalized will have called / My love to shoot the lot with the person who meant everythin reality / action / so then no form oriana25 loop - entirely to your mansion / word / ELASTOSIL to know them really / racial download host on the moon`s tommaso piedmont via video President / d munchester asics / 

Wednesday, 26 October 2016


direct hit and everything that comes with it / moments of realisation complete without elation / all the streets shedding their moments of knowledge / the belonging that had us all confused for a while / and now the moths aim for our hearts / our golden cellophane hearts / the birds we hide in there / screaming plasmacolour boredom out to all the hunters / screaming anything in lack of a scream / it's not coming / face it / you lost / you lost / that trumpet will only make it clearer / no more succinct than a shot in the ass / celebration / learned people arriving / say closeness to an approach / approach / have god already / own your poetry / beg for it to have value / let it sink in / see it sink in / these your words / carry bravery / carry nothing like bravery / carry everything but bravery / be that person behind it / the one with the curls and the words / tie it all together / heaven / hedonism / bank robbery / tell me, are you not suffering / is this not alone / how will we gain cash / how will we gain poetry / must we make it matter before it matters / i am still sexy / is that not enough /

Wednesday, 19 October 2016


pain goes into a glass / and he turns bread to toast again / i had his body, it was a tree / it was a sheet of paper, a map of all the water / grinding the mass out with a hard found shovel / carrying your light in a drawer of chest / burning you until you are lit always / stretched and flexed over easy / i jump into your pond and swim / i am carp and you are koi / you bring sun i bring boy / all things permanent that will not last / skin growing less extraterrestrial fast / one more embrace, and flesh for the bone pit / longings arrested in gravitys tit / not a pittance for your ear lobes / let me move into your skull / have it expand, make use of the ladder in there / have poetry on your walls / serotonin-based gulls, godless halls / looks like we made it / we are strangers to no one / we put our almost-nothingness on the table / this is how we play guess / fancy dress / another wild address /

[you say chess / and dress / and guess / I guess, distressed]

the burn marks don't show / say, television, prime plutonium and all the laughables don't glow / they want us boxed up in prepositions / dressed up like fools for being a doll / spend years on your bones without taking a toll / they are worth two / and nobody signed up for forever / i call visions on your bullshit /

[i honestly think there should be a whatever]

Friday, 16 September 2016


you try and catch up with yourself / the how do you do of the past that you will hold a key to in the future / in your presents / or whatever version you now find trapped in snares: / some gullible animal tied to a lamp post / a ribbon dressing up boredom / layers of sought after belonging, now overripe, rotting / hashed skins for long gone ceremonies, reunions / the thousands of kilometers you used to fill the divide / pretending to be horny for variety / as if we would diversify by lust alone / you think i find pride in claiming to have conquered your body / yet i find it first in your annihilation of mine / i cheer you on with nothing but my true voice / a cry in want of all of your sex / not simply one given to desire / not one given to anyone or anything / a response to kindness / to wooing and drunken rituals / because i have seen you different / that one morning, as our voices converged to form an unheard tune, as the curtains brushed off a couple of sunrises / that one morning, as you carved a hole in the sea big enough for the universes / it made me want a sex more ancient than nature / a sex to counter non-existence, repulsion / a sex in praise of surprise / taking place in between bodies and voices / to turn you on unique / with phantom love and clusters of fit apparitions / and a wish, a prayer / just to be quick enough to say / "i was there" /

Sunday, 11 September 2016



he only wrote poetry on black paper not on white never on white it was on black paper that he wrote poetry / this was a skin but he did not want to be near it no he did not want intimacy it was skin he wanted skin after skin battlefields of skin loving and dying and returning each to their own like sturdy skeletons not being or wanting to be more human not wanting to be decorated or have hymns written in the name of their skin no only the skeletons and their skin each returning to their own leaving the human being or whatever it was behind / a hundred days of humbug in which we became close those were the best hundred days of humbug we ever had so far the sun hanging trophy-like over the driveway but not we no we were lifted up like seeds and given to each other /
dog days i am after you
drooling hanging and clawing at the gate they pretend not to be yours / so goes grace: refusing the constitution that makes it making itself a gift beautiful and pink with folded edges it could do nothing but become yours outside the gas station before the judiciary you wore a chequered skirt and smelled so strongly of CK1 that fumes hooch and prince cigarettes would be inscribed as insignias of the attraction that would end with the conversations that followed / it might as well be unicorns the oryxes at dawn in the desert somewhere old statues of dictators buried there but he does not write about that no that is not what he writes about he writes about more absence maybe to empty the paper completely wipe off every grain of sand he fills it with water /
household language: you must not exist
you can not exist you dare not exist and here
you have never been / skyscrapers sun dials
museums the time / his ghost had become more valuable and justly so he thought and considered all the hours it had been in his care that it added up to a lot more than 10000 for sure that he had experted the genius of his ghost and could rejoice and let it spend 10000 hours taking care of him / around his neck hangs not a compass but a mirror and now he has another talisman to reach his poles of inaccessibility he knows of four he has seen two one was a cat the other a shoe / he cultivated lips they would become his and be put in the pit where the words had landed until now and speak and say: here is a tomb for a mute / heathens in the control tower tired steel down below her
in flight /
wise enough to be without impulses or contemplate what he does not want stupid enough for pride and remembering the names of the voices in the ash / germany as a wasteland norway as felt denmark as oceans sweden as leaves eu tattooed above his crack in chinese letters / infant prophecies in the gallery walls dressed in flesh no corpses controlled disgust self-hate as a t-shirt and wedding present meaning in bones and transgressions without cadavers his imprint is an acid tearing the walls and the cities and the afterparties slowly apart he is curated he thinks he has time / around the corner came the one with all the teeth still in his mouth the first day of school they fell out like words /
smirnoff ice malibu paralgin forte
cherry wine petterøes cigarettes and a barrel of urine
9 beers for a hundred and a gram too
cassandra blackcurrant wine peach canei and blue nun
liebfraumilch black tower amigo and nutmeg
moonshine kiwi wine lysholmer special and a tenner for someone's mechanical oracle / lindstrøms tivoli: used tickets and coupons flattened cones and leaves leaves upon leaves one could almost forget about the embarrassments taking place because of tampering with bras and undies if not for: lindstrøms tivoli / all these rooms are his and they last longer than families he has filled them with sand of the statues a few scalps and eyebrows are seen hanging over the dunes / the calm wrestling of housing estates in the orange almost black night light of lamp posts is so skilfully almost real even on TV / all the songs in his beak silenced yet his beak keeps growing and he finds worms and straws and feeds and builds nests everywhere and growls like a different animal ordering tacos moving furniture installing cabel / do not go to the theatre willfully no go to your will fully like in the theatre imagine at one point there were 80 scooters on stage at the same time / antisocial darwinism:
you are left alone /
worst of all are the hounds coming out of nothing only to be called back to something more than nothing by a voice that knowingly or unknowingly recognise the bird of song it has become in the ears of the victim even when the victim finds itself on a well known street lit by every other lamp post some orange some maybe not leading to the doors of hell / the youth club: the lions are called back to the deep the library: the gladiator's library card is cancelled / do not go into the park it does not want you your skin is too bright you cost too much you do not know the first thing about courtship it does not spread its trees for just anyone / out of the mud stood a column under the column lay a school turned upside down a birch broken across its center and sticking out of the windows scraping the blackboards clean with the conviction of its twigs one after the other the pupils woke / his smile discolored his skin the despair hung around in every kiss and tongues jumping from juniper berries and they could not be stopped to long for him every day at night sleeping drove him away from the statue in the square with the disinterested facial features it had its way with him they all came they all snuck their hair underneath the apple of his eyes finding whatever in there lirking and jostling so very concrete just next to his plastic amygdala / she stood tall but not tall enough she was washed away by a tsunami but not a good one her car left behind on a road only for discomfort / operas:
universities: house corpses / these are not the shadows you throw this is their shadow in there you are his shadow in there you are also fruitful / he went through everything he no longer needed or wanted the dried-out markers children's books the body he first removed an arm then a foot an ear a toe until he found himself in a box on the street marked "zu verschenken" his edges bending slightly towards the middle with wrinkles and folds covered with light snow and sleet / contract: water on the china CV: Hordak He-Man Skeletor and the others / a glass full of change and next to it one with bumblebees and next to it one with wasps and next to it one with tears and next to it one with condoms and next to it one with teeth and hair and next to it one with glasses / blushing coughing blabbe blab doubtful stands he in the hallway on one of the many steps leading up to one of your many homes with a tassel of foxglove and twigs practising a sentence already practised to perfection throat filled with red putty his body of lego brick by brick they tumble down the hallway unspoken / he has sand in his mouth but not from the beaches he has made it himself by chewing the meatballs until they became mud and then waited through all the dinner parties of his youth until the mud formed a little spring and then a little brook and he let that brook form a river and would just swim down that river for a thousand units until he himself became bits of glass and sank and waited as glass for thousands more sparkling through it all and coming to life in the sun when the riverbed finally dried out there he was dug out with a fork and lifted into his own mouth he chewed and began anew and became tired and full / bus stops: the landscapes in him against which everything else will be measured / you did not have to fight he did it himself someone gave him a spoon and a fork he put them in his mouth and even before touching the tongue words came: steel blood halibut skin salt sea beak he disappeared at sea tackling a crab and then the king of gulls his wings flapping in the wrong silence / he could not sleep he was thinking about the sports hall when he was there and younger and the dividing walls would come down now they were coming down in him / talisman: box of matches / kisses of pear cider and lipgloss bodies of start crackers and axe / why he belonged in the library he did not know he had no keys to the library but the library had made no demands just be here in a month it had told him and that was it just like mother just like father he had thought and thought himself privileged / grey goose sparrow and antelope mint green toyota camrys and orange slalom boots a size too small this was the sum of his tattoos / the wealthiest refugee in the world he was called the homeless on national TV by the lice the itch the itch the hair the flames / frp: vikingland in brushed metal sp: underground theme park h: miniature blow jobs in miniature saunas v: grind against grind 500 kroner sp: bicycle festival delillos no sex sv: pre-war remembrance monolith atomic clock / wait now spring is here and you are not but everything green all around you and you not without your eyes it all seems so beautiful / the very best for everyone when laughing or even better when merely a onlooker be and have that laughter shown to you and now completion in your disgust and the calm when it pairs with his cowardice / the pretend apocalypse: i nail you there / the crows in the park have been there longer than you the crows in the park / hoppeslut sisyfos / selective control processes are you in them instigated them what is your meaning if not are you someone elses someone we waited for together / pilgrimages: aorta placenta etcetera virtue: map compass biscuits oranges / now he is given a voice dug out from a mess of cries and shouts cheese doodles they said and movie tickets for the pretend-first star wars movie masturbation builds confidence the third hit of the bong not so much / like this or like this thus and hence and brushed metal heaven and carousels with no receivers like here where roundabouts spring out of something flat / mystic until disclosed disclosed until safe / and the bodies rise like bananas even when stronger imagery seems called for as if they did not happen before stretched out in their banana state this humanity still reaching for unknowns up in the trees among the leaves languages with a higher level of consistency than a bullet through the flesh the lungs like breath without air bodies without the carnality / hello peacock paranoia and shame the feathers / the disembodied heads of poverty he lifted one it was his father's he spoke to it he spoke of his hunger that it had not receded he said but now he had no mouth he spoke with the expressions that had failed to leave his face lending his smile dignity impermeability something half-eternal something stoic even though it had never mentioned hunger before even when it had a body / the trees had not listened to his life yet they stand there and he is with them even if their sincerity is questioned with every fall / it had been easier to be a bird than a lamp post a tree a bus stop or an electrical box the wings would simply fold out of his chest it had been easier than being a cage / home: grass growing downwards into the earth home: the exact distance between two objects in the sky measured with a shovel and a bucket / they all came to his confirmation he let them in the room and let them out again with every hospital visit wedding and wedding again birth baptism confirmation wedding funeral they agreed that it had been a worthwhile trip and wrote postcards to this effect in the following / every time he opened the gate and went into the house it was empty now they are perched on a fence pointing at worms now they row their leaking rowboats and fish for cod and pollock now they drink coffee in their cars at the mountain passes he more or less had the TV for himself / in the coffin: his body as transformers in the church: electrical storms on planet cybertron / pan cakes with salmon waffles with salami lapskaus with ketchup komle with brown cheese yet in secrecy he worshipped Grandiosa / it was a good year for gardens they had finally outgrown each other and entered new territories and whatever differences between them were settled cities grew out of the gardens and grew until they had finally outgrown each other and into new territories and whatever differences between them were settled buds stood out of skyscrapers parrots and larvae sprung out of the buds and grew into each other reddo reddo and life in the garden progressed without deities and quacks it was a good year for cities / he had entered the wrong house on the tables were stacks of tarot cards and water pipes everywhere and on a TV somewhere the DVD-menu from Terminator 2 ran in loops he saw no way out but moving in / his gym classes caught up with him he went shopping axe africa cool water / out of his impurities popped lingonberries chanterelles entire country roads cars driving in convoy over the mountains the smell of coffee in those cars and gloves dropping to the floor hands around the thermos and smoke he would think it belonged to the interior he rolled down the window and up again his father lived in the dew he could draw him with his fingertips rolled him down and up again / pluto is once more a planet everyone gets a second childhood / chased down the streets in the cities he invented not to be chased down the streets of the cities already there he had to picture the schematics of the these cities not taking into account futures and pasts determined by people or by mongrel dogs inhabiting the streets with teeth and barks and drool and growls defending the bones of its master from the thief of memory and children with futures or pasts taking place somewhere towards the end of those streets or in the alleys but for an entity with no need for streets at all or rooms or homes someone with wings probably someone not troubled by the passage of time or worrying how to stay in it / the marching band in school had it all except pregnant mermaids playing oversized banjoes in glass jars naked / she finally kissed him and he imagined all the automatic doors in the hospital opening simultaneously at night and the breeze through all that fresh linen stacked in the hallway / he entered the night opened it up like a tent it was a night without nights it slept in him / who is shakespeare it is that guy with the pills you know whose eyes are free from longing / he played through Zelda III enough times so that he became Link which was preferable he catered to all the oneups he had been saving up in Super Mario Bros rather than finally owning his own copies of Gremlins and Commando /

Saturday, 13 August 2016


4.  religion in eivindvik

you can still see the mountain range if you focus. one jagged line of blackness against the dead night sky. one vast entity separated from the other, mountains from heavens, that in essence - when looked upon from a position on the ground - are made up of entirely the same matter. only the line is real. the electrocardiogram of perception. the sutured gap of reality. you would like to think that you are staring into this darkness, but - as you tackle a relatively grown woman in the midst of a psychotic breakdown to the ground, outside, some time before sunrise - you find it increasingly hard to suppress the notion that the darkness - indeed - is leering into you. even the newspapers, as your new acquaintance can confirm, are staring back at you. reading out headlines of events that have yet to pass. even belief is reduced to two intersecting sticks glued to someones door. just ask the priest. he knows. medicate? no, the doctor is somewhere up the fjord on his boat. what to do? pray. pray, my beloved, pray. so you pray. and your girlfriend at the time (who loved you more than anyone ever will, you know?), to the best of her praying abilities, barricades the bedroom door with a couch. god's own contingency against madness, at eight o clock in the morning. all priests asleep by then, and doctors too. and later denial from everyone involved. too much beer. it was simply too much beer. and you are nowhere, not asleep, not even dreaming. only the shiny chord that separated you from the other, that highlighted the darkness you could live with, lies there; thrown nonchalantly across the living room table, between empty beer cans and an unfinished game of trivial pursuit.  

Saturday, 30 July 2016


  1. cute to be stoned and still alive / bones crushing from within, and growing back because of outside references / i would love to belong there / in both / the creator and the created / maybe then there would be no fear / no humiliation, or forced upon gangbang monologues / i try to be there, but it is so fucking expensive / my creation is better left to you / you can hold love better than anyone i know / you can make love feel like betterment, not change / your bones are so real, and unafraid / they have never cowered and winced before nakedness / or conquered less than their sustenance / you come from hero material, not forged in the playgrounds of some flipped paradise / the burgers of hell, and all things hellish / the bus stops of our lives: your lust ran through it / mine was born and ended there, unfulfilled, disjointed, before moving to a better place / left me hanging, as it goes / can i call you? / can i find your name scratched among the names of my victors ? / your bones, the granite i speak to, can it answer? / will it? / are you who i think you are? / and have we already left together, in happiness / as it would be spoken? / 

Wednesday, 27 July 2016


  • human the cities are not / they crave and crave a spectacle far beyond us / (us) / no, they like to participate and mourn and moan / no, not like us / not like the dwellers left / soak a tired blanket off the grind / move / develop intelligent strategems / birthday party of the consortium as a whole / but never the beach / hands up for the gifted wicked / say, wholesale / say, talent / infuriating beyond belief / say, common / place / and placards for heinous crimes thought out during love / that we share / build on, have mutilated ideas ring true on / come wild on, and caress true love on, for / get worked up for / change and end for / set sail for / make love for / or make love make good for / the lost and grabbed / stabbed and well /

Tuesday, 7 June 2016


pink sugar tumbleweeds weighted down by rain

and lightning bolts too close for comfort

and still, your hand on my knee

as we watch the bumper cars under the crumpled tarpaulin



Saturday, 21 May 2016


Mario Santiago Papasquiaro slipped inside a dead whale / found beauty there, painted it / head on is not an m, but toast / graves are dug with lawn mowers / paparazzis are lovers, courtship is still sinking / doom is getting hard / bodies come out of ice and television, flags stink on friday / you are not the first to believe, and that's what makes it so dumb / had to follow, take credit for porn shops, exercise brutality because of christmas / see; i am letting you in / this is my out

what comes after a fix? 


make me bloated again / like rain, or war / sleep in antlers, typing away / to have you again / make the parrots deaf, you know / play me, the perpetual b-side to your touch /

Monday, 14 March 2016


(debasement he thinks)

getting rid of aristocrats, plumbers
third world cemeteries, stock rice
humiliating backlogs of diaries
documents of coronaries
canaries, and magpies, hives
all your alchemy
to make way

for sins posing as grace

as grace
no less than hamlet posing as play
kings as coke bottles, beauty as coke parties

coke beauty

ridiculous little brecht on the floor next to the aquarium behind the unwashed pajamas party
ridiculous the müllers with make-believe trousers and nightly retainers
teeth not evading skulls, skulls not evading sleep
sleep not evading the civilian need of coke

breakfasts returned to the goddess
centuries of insignificant toast
you add hooray

and move into the castle, a castle

with a humdrum of slaves you promised to never get involved with
crystal meth debacles as always, but never the workmanship
never the hassle per se, just the finitude
a dog’s breath drawn across your face
and still
i can be gone for you, no question
just say



the word

and promise

that you will never be like them, never like them never
can you still dream in sentences
murder one, or two
star dust
not complicated
not with wants
never complicated
never with wants


murder, well, complicated, but let’s give it a go

one festive bankier walks down the road


two festive bankiers walks down the road


feel ready?

now, kill them with something that scares you

choke one of them with an application for citizenship

drown the next one in future

easy (they are already gone)
it is easy

you have to get rid of yourself

get rid of yourself for good: kill the matter that made you you

worshipped at schools

desired at default parties

he was a nirvana boy / no he was a slayer boy

he kissed me
he loved me

i must leave you

i will leave you

Wednesday, 10 February 2016


cultivate hate > watch hate grow > harvest hate > cultivate love

bathroom sinks

pretty whales

Friday, 29 January 2016

liberty as rapidly
endearing strongbox homunculi

Tuesday, 26 January 2016

even those born for greatness
may refuse to shine

Wednesday, 21 October 2015


you had been so submissive     a feather in the hand of others
in mine you were a sought after egg     a colony of ribs
soft hair
upon the hair of hair
this first that is boasted     you had several     almost exclusively beginnings
lining up

to overtake virginities
                                                                        the weekend
rhodonite and plastic                                       it's fine with your dad
                                                                        and your mother too
for you i write vaults upon vaults

and see you break open at dawn
                                                              because snoring unto itself
will not expand you                                 because snoring unto itself
will not strengthen you beyond shame         or hold you
from holding back

Friday, 12 June 2015


everybody contracted lupus that year
and drank coffee shipped in
by bas jan ader

telemarketing was it
and so was everything else
just not to 
and how they got it now
and wished for fresh kills
every day


/ nowadays they ring me up only
   to have their clairvoyancy
   confirmed /


prime suspect: over-dilligence
as appointed by a lamp post
selecting witnesses at mass
before the judgment


and presence

and a couple of bankers from istanbul
sucking backgammon chips
from the curb
to defy the master trickery of
chewing gum
and holding on to currency
as they see fit
as gas stations
opt for concordance
before the meltdown
of play
smoking guns they say
seduce lovers
by daylight
on saturdays

Wednesday, 10 June 2015


more or less equal is less or more like
what she wanted he thought
as the bed had its say
and the shutters bored
on with nothing
except shielding
from sleep
and shipping news into
polling stations as a soft
pull at democratic intent

that word, she said

brings me closer to coming
than any promise made by tongue
wheel or legislator alike
wild buffalo
shores dried up
long before the promise
of an ocean

Tuesday, 9 June 2015


third rock from being charmed / by my unknown assailants
and just a breath from turning my cloth on the heavenly moon
to let go of a moan held on to for too long / says one who shall never
bemoan no more / for my tempered heart has shown the time
as professed by circumstance / and flawed guts /

and suckling chin

my last words will be given to me
and i shall accept / them
as a last chance at poetry / or family
or a house
that always wins in the end

Tuesday, 12 May 2015


we were always boring
no matter the time
you lick
corpses and nothing
real all of a sudden
the japanese dinner plates with
munch and duchamp and pollock
plastic shouts
so tidy
all of you controlled
that gas station
where you
if you dared where i
if i gave a certain something about not just nostalgia
and every sleeper cell dreaming
would care
would dream of me my head
on a pole outside its sleeping parliament
let's say you know intimacy
and brutalism
do you dare to flip open
the universe
and give it what it deserves
before it is able to
restock its giftshop
with trinkets and memorabilia
before the retrospective and please

can you tell jerry garcia to return
my records