"So, what can you do? Man is mortal and, as was once said so fittingly,
sometimes suddenly so..." - Mikhail Bulgakov, 'The Master and Margarita'

I: "Meditation Blues"
Cherry blossom fritters. Side ordering
daisy tacks, a low mockery wit; her
cast of auburn colours the lawn even
by day, where I, by high light and cold cof-
fee sit. On biro swell I swallow the
sky in books by its day and by night, trees
that sing like taverns. The world knows nothing
of my name, and yet; and yet, man to the
starboard and not yet my fame. Sighs of a
hosting and bowing in flame
03/06

II: "Synesthesia"
The basket run of a broken young yearn-
ing what brings me here in both parts man in
a casking, suffocation suffering
caskets, blind and cast against a craft of
failures. Roads were sickening fair, fire boast-
ing its tall but angels all were they (mining
prose in glass and thick with wrong). Dynamo
rapture of daydreams an' skullcracking mino-
taur; these waves of shuffling, tune and love-lock
06/06, 02:24

III: "..."
Imaginist. Gravehobbler. I, a wealth-
less showjumping cobbler coddling manic
gun moll Bonnies from their soundless chamber
doors. I, who wished upon a Ginsberg; I,
a burning clash of words borne of type an'
wire and set to pull his trade on stacks of tusk
an' bone. I, alone, who culled a bunkum
treat from wakeless dark and cursed it's
ongoing. I, who muse in signal sounds
and books (and both are making tiresome)
07/06, 02:49

IV: "A Drive in the Rain"
If you see it, the 'Stroszek' dance. 'The Id-
iot' tandem turn and set toward the rope
I burn to climb a stool and glance, alas:
Tell me I'm a fool, I'm. A bored sensi-
crat and cannot drive for daydreaming that
I'd sooner slice an unintelligentsi-
a growth upon my family plot, a wart;
That all is said and done that I may move
The devil knows where; I haven't a dime
on, nothing to prove (dreams against a wheel)
09/06, 03:18

V: "E(a)ves"
There's birds on the wall at the Bates' motel.
Mundane slip o' Courvoisier cadence
a rape, a-sudden, boils on a breathless
(somebody knows a man, knows a man who did
it in carrion.) Swelling on a breast of
boos(e) a conversation a who roll o'
periphery slimate, and through it then
who wants to know? I lock a glass a stiff-
ened vice a charming moon of falsey an'
half hope, "tomorrow can't in rising"
14/06, 00:41

VI: "Canal-Bank Blues"
If all is themed on love and death then what
is there left to tell? The Windsor knot's a-
round my breast a cosier lot than hell
an' I am of none but collar white and
sticky grey (the warehouse sun bruise of a
sleepless iris and calling it crimson).
My days are long in passing o'er pixel
perfect picturing never she O sec-
ret Aphrodite who is so cruel. It's
never my last "do you love me so?"
15/06, 00:50

VII: "Feier Musik"
Little 'ood awn across a boundary sickle safe and sewn of sexless mound-
ing molars brought me here in high hope sinking
piece a supple sullen flesh (that lovelorn oops upon a nailwound on my back) and loose
across a high scale Munich I challenge the entire city -
"Do what thou wilt. So mete it be"
(hollow and hollow in any degree)
17/06 - 22/06