cruelty was intent
bent only to effect harm
pep up in power
purely
as the action of a child

cost

When the crime is right
      & the devil wet
             the nocturnal forrest is a skin
                     and ceremony thin dreams broach reason
            they poach me with a caustic blooded rash
approaching as nippy darts  ; visions of shard and coil
a metallic eggy rot
                           and pan to the darkness
                                                     snapping electric

        irregular from that darkness
spaces between the trees comb
                      form a hyper hectic wealth of flushes
a blush burst discharges in the body
           booming pulse
          blooming rabidly
salivating to a ******* savagery
a nature to express
       forecast
             within permeable forrest

i have energy amazed limbs
             daring a dance
                       screamin' hole The Frenzy
             dog-shaking the head
legs flung and planted
crushing ferns
             this hefty simian sway
                      a broadcast challenge
             invitation
           a power coward
commanding a matching of kinds
                       excitation
       no longer to be foetal and cowed
             an aching unmend amended
a call is placed
the spell is rendered
    
                                 - resonate

The body dies :
A crumpling
not an implosion
as I turn inward
on my own corpse
In a desperate gasp
for sustenance and revival
The result ? :
A flourish!...
but, then, a puff
deflation
The Surround caves me
collects arrears upon my vehicle
I am to make no feast
the body is the process

my untackled thoughts
quake miniature dramatics ;
cramming for the light
having fits for my attention

through each
I am irresponsibly born
and then hastily killed...
it is a wasteful process

from now on
I shall label them
as they surface
I shall call them Petty Mort
both a joke at their expense
and a simple dismissal

with this manner
I shall practice trimming them
from my chosen daily effort

life fends its ache in a solid state of lumber
stretches grouted brawn
and sets its stresses on duty

gaseous pollution meets the daylight
a warming flatulence of the productivity byproduct
labour

orb
parching an arc over the brow
and easing an erase into the eve

then to
the night solution
a fluid of festivity
*** excite in arts and the conduct
a canvas of tincture
to suspend our culture
                        in-bedded

the witching hour is only a blink
a jiff and a wink
a humour in the plasma state
break
the process is reignited
and for that brief movement
cleaned out of heads
we are simple
guided

we kip through all the ****** on the news
i left the device on a radio channal
  awoke to it burning up static and turned it off

silence as falcon overviews us
ultraviolet sight
  looking for neon spots and trails of *****
            markings that may betray the entrance of our dwelling

i put the kettle on

our voices are clayed
            by our
   confessing inner multitude
but they're recorded all the same

i pour a cup of tea

our pattern of submission
        is signal tweaked
maintainance by murmers
****** thorough
        through our glacial surrender

i take a sip

silence as
aided by the clear weather
   a drone nips out its choice targets

we were not selected
neither us or any neighbour
but far away ;
a story heard on the device

pipe cleaner tree rat
are you prepared for Winter ?
first snow touches ground

the rise of your chest  bellows and rest
the eyes of your investment   in me
the falling mane we form together
drapes
                                   into our milly pool
                              into our night attacks
     we act out civil villainy  and pranks
   we didn't mean to  but  we were spilt

   all the gutted sources of our majesty
bedroom headquarters and missions
   abroad from there  lead them to stare
our belly can hold all the resulting
                        birds of yellow vulgarity

they come to our door
                    with glowing phones raised
and we answer
         leaking behind our death-masks
they've chosen
                      to take us far too seriously
and may strike us down
                                             anti martyred
          alabaster heretics
                                laughing

With a raffling breath
I sate death neatly
I am now in trust
Dead
And being played into new life
There's a swelling of new strifes
and wavings from within
Heats of organisms
Worlds accelerating
Pulsion
Gases waste and gases invitations
take place where I have been
A celebration
A bedding
If only The Humans would leave
the 'Dead Body' be
Just when I am finally achieved
They make a bother
I'll make out a doner card
No, a placard
"No Preservation Upon Death !
Corpse Rights Remain !"

i greet new love
i want to classify her...
this day is a flushing
a wash
sky in nutrients and vented
i blaze a way across an unhandled lot
i stalk the train tracks
and envision the ghouls making interest
regarding my process
from the spaces
in the frown of stumble down buildings

i feel sing-song
and full of wing
i am alive
as are the crickets
i am alive
as is the detritus
its all vital
a clan and not a mangle
a form of battle
but with gentle politness
a grace of progress
occasionally
a sightless grapple
plenty

what mind has eye to garden
          in a field of headrests ?
pulling up the tough weeds
          that manage off embalmers fluid
repainting plastic flowers for strangers families
reciting engraved names that amuse
          such as Clutterbuck and Storm Boyle
warden the valve
          that values the last breath
spike the ground with snorkels
           and thicken the atmosphere
           with mans garbage gases
what relief the earth would feel
           deflated of our bizarre bedding...
could we light them
           like the flames of factories ?

rain drained down
upon us cold
paraded away our labours
pegged at out bare backs
and showboated us all
as temporary
reactive
and lacking in good humour

no bleak
      no gravel
            no granary

flushed upward         flossed through the cloud
proud       of our colourful obituary
but there's nothing to hold us here
fear nothing wary
     no feline attention
           no canary to fulfil the coal mine
just the foggy cotton of perspiration       and no cling
so we are benign      to respond
  rung to sense
     to physics
    to every-mans gravity

no grieve
      no manner
            no calamity

just plummet
       and wind sore
              and sun-bleached torn clothing
                      and dread of developing horrors
                    perhaps collision    with unwanted human company
               no paid way into outer space
        jest descent

you flounder for memories
         to flutter before eyes
              instead    you are battered by collage
an old video game console the cat peed on
     clips you    fragrant between the eyes
a set of your golf clubs in their bag
         winds you     hugging in the gut
             (did you ever play golf ?)
so much more product     and then the car
      Jeep Grand Cherokee     colour burgundy
          draws level
             doors hung open   to the yap of history
grateful and familiar       you take to its back seat
  pull over a tarp     and sleep
     but its all crushed apart
and you face again
                          the plunge

turning corpses of hills below
  the quaking landscape bellows "NO!"
       and patches of spikey urban ventilation
                all gush to volunteer you
                     ***** toward your voice
                          that's screams also 'No!'
                              but realize
                                 the voice
                                    of the
                                    earth
                      ­            screams rowdier
                             and on a weeping in-breath
                                                              to­ replenish

you conduct winds about the room
    whipping decor and geisting destruction
breaking into a tempest tantrum and fume
    you use up the air in aggressive combustion
    foam breath, thunderous in gloom
and then its pulled-over, you've attained exhaustion
    you need a hug, a glass of water, tears drench
      it hurts barrenly and then a healing quench

fermentation permeates
thumbs its holes
perforates     the surface
    in her turning state

                 +++

her aged clammy skin
     is sacky suit
       and patched with the marring
          of toxin exhaust
her worn molt gowning
       clothes it all in

her belfry ?
  there is no sage here
place held ;
     there is a broken variation
        of some childish penitentiary

though her matter is paddy and pollute
her being is parched
she is expulsion in progress

setting :
positioned
  opposing the other physically
      in form of a cold interview
we are in a breakfast café

i will not reach for her hand
  though she'd like the comfort
with no asylum given
  what are her words to be ?

i wait
(i cannot manage a kindness
  her mangy carriage promotes nausea)
i wait
(i'll not reach for her
  her actions in our family wicked life
    she provokes no trust or warmth)
i wait
(i'll not be the first to speak)
      
if there is anything left to say
talk now ?
i feel a little quickening
what are your words, old heck ?

her hands fit about like moth
she ignites a cigarette
the life fights out of her
right then

no spores
only resin
she passes in front of me

she said not a word

i awkwardly pay the bill with quaking hands
and leave her there

i am homeless, without a mother
-scattered-
she is ultimately homeless now

the sky is sopping up
                smears of weather from the city day
filling out darkly
  the portly host of the eve   ushers us into warm dens
nature starts the night shift
it appraises

this night is rat dog    recovering from urban filth
                                       rolling in grass dew and spoil

the tainting of the air     is contributed to from abroad
migration of contraband fumes (forest fires out west)
                                     and the heat raises

too populated   to hold a proper witching hour
the night in shifts
any slumber has its quality watered down 
                                    the constant street activity

weeping sunrise   nights excuses stopper   inebriation rests
arrested blight   morning light and everything about
your crushable body smiles naked things
i roll over to face the uncurtained window
hunch out of bed and stilt my way
to support my self at the sill

overcast with an invasive muffle of smog
members of the bright-time    pooling for occupation
                      do not remember the night
                                it's simply poor sleep

jocular hack of a day
sideways   and flinty with snow
the winds dictate  the true streets of this city
turbine life outside  is in retreat or insurance
sing in the sunny pleasure
let the weather match celebration
beast of spring forgive
our lustless plunder and dumbing
quake us from our numb standard
ferry us

i must hustle    cause i’m made of spoil
moist rice skin
            thinly incases  soft fluttering organs
mucus coated   elastic  chicken bones
                                          run throughout my parcel
they prop me      doe-ing before the lumy screen
     (the screen that volunteers us all)

emaciating into my work
      through this communal portal    i'll detonate my legend
    my spirit shall decant and dispel gladly
in the world remaining
    my cadaver will become acclimated
                        and re-meat the soil in an easy spill

         no longer alienated     my work will be    utter

to hold onto another's
                   vehicle body
                       another's
               flush living corpse
to treat a companions form
       as life cradle
         a giant fostering dummy
          to break open your emotion
         and evacuate in their presence
       to collapse privately into their fold
    and be vulnerable to them
  as though they held
a wattled pouch of birthing elation

to hold a stranger even....
a rotor of deposing energy
because you've been managing
                 your own energies
              so so very inefficiently

grab your 'friend'
pour your familiarities
                ebb and flow
               for comfort
             for mouthing
          for mothering
      and perhaps
something more vigorous

       the parting
         cold embarrassment
          that nesting ill fettle
           when you doubt
the genuine spirit of the liaison
             embarrassed
      cold
and milky human
         out a strange door
           into hard light
  and the painful abrasion
  of the common weather

no picnic when panic
no streets unborn here

germinal ;
creature undresses
from his cool rubbery dead skin
steps
scent free
into the sodium light
and works on its pallor

fleshed out from the plumbing
a manic talent
it sports the label , Mr. Talon
and favours a facade of mercurial cosmetics

now,
a character most vividly colourful and male-ish
a voice
a maddened song
he breaks his face
and makes it a smile

armed with this sickle
bringing his comedic heavings to the public
he goes gory across the fresh laundry
a violence upon the canvas
a spree upon welcoming sadness
an open mockery
breaking ease
and seizing upon an audience

no more chiding
from within the shade
(egging on villains
and dropping muse-meal)
the folk hero
the prankster
this fierce performer of mischief
takes the stage
in a full suit of teeth-skin
and he’s really quite ravenous
for your abiding applause

i fed on your gushy sunshine
i feed on the void black line   that centres all of your smiles
          and fall foreign in felty dreams   of extremities in distance
untravelling   a bursting sense of yelp   back across my lone moor of memory
                            for that  i am blue wound

there is love in life and liver in pâté
it's food and a crush in on me
squeezing out   my colours ruin with blame

                                                       - a discharge

a stranger to me
        - medically -
you disassemble me :
        i'm clasped kindly to the spot

with a hectic burst of flushing warmth
         my vision smudges
         my ears stopper
         my fingertips swell away their prints smooth
         and my tongue becomes
         a stunned obstacle of brawn

a blood blush has discharged
         and thorough throughout my system
         you resound ;
         a booming pulse blooming rabidly
         salivating to the tune
         of a detained ******* savagery

a nature to express how sick you unmake me
my nasal passages clear
your mere radiating visit
           has left me merry-go-maddened with pep

behaving lunatics
repressing     til the coming of rupture
                    when the clocks shall strike dumb

then we shall plumb freedom of expression

His :

i make my travel
reseeding you
                my dear heart
                      into a compact unit of storage

i relieve from our nesting comfort
dismiss our established downey base of cooperation
                                   cleave from our snared compromise

instead to bed and thieve an unshared atmosphere
guilty joy followed by joyful normality
no stale thing

unravelling light
  lifted
(secure
  that I've a capsule world
  when i turn
  toward our lap again)

goodbye of you i am mended
made completely free
                    on the first turn of a corner


& Hers :

you leave me
      on your travels (you-were-my-travels)
you leave me susceptible
my heart alters to become
       a weak permeable tissue of easy tamper
       membership structure is dissolved
         returned to the vital spill
           welcome fluent contamination
               villainess and godless vibration
                  of the goddess confession

dress hooked up past my waist
i'll power-**** away my morality on day one
each day following shall be made easy
  ushered along in brutalities slip steam
                        and the prom of eddies

back in time i've been working on something..
       i'll call it The ****** List
criminal joys and tasks of double self daring
committed
     (not folded over
       or veloped in the knicker drawer)
           it operates as a basking lurk
                               tucked discreetly
                                 correct behind the eye
                      a charm feature of the unconscious
when released
   it's something melkish and larking with energy
   tacking harm to my activated mischief
      kinetic value and uncontrollable spur

in your absence
     i am permissionless
abyssless
i account for nothing

nooks of the apartment
the memory of us quickly forms a ***** coral
i've stopped washing to suit this mode
my body, a journal of stains and earned bruises
i holla and bay at mementoes of our brace
and then stop at the near point of the neighbours tolerance

time has crushed in on its own thesis
become gummy and tenseless
skipping about in haphazard spasms
  backstep, bow and reversal
     now
          observably organic in motion
           and proud of its many personalities

Oh, You're Back Again !
    no, it is your ghost
is it a spy ? ... i doubt you knew you even had it
it threads in and out of my company
seeming baffled and far from its comfort zone
did i put you there ?
i don't call you
the physical you
because you said 'no phones'
              and 'only in emergencies' (is-this-urgent ?)
Is This Urgent ?!
i restrict where i live in here
     keep the windows widowed and veiled
it makes for an unreal canvas
i'm weeding for a correction
sensual precarious highs
violate
in a spate
with this time alone
i'll make our home a vile space
a defication
and i can make no sense assessment of it any
i fight against digestion within these premises
i stay still long enough i am softened and palped
            by a dense atmosphere and salivations of contact
and outside..

the streets are exhausted
and i've quite the nasty reputation
violence, baiting and thievery
inebriation and toxic language
i shall soon be policed
no doubt i've lost my job
for now our place is a dare for vandals
             when i am an insensible heap
                 and perspiring over you in delirium
                    they devalue the exterior

unearthing
i'll find my creative sprite
that is good
i had missed it
now this is urgent (this-is-mine-was-always)
i take up a notebook and puke it full
i take sticks in my mitt and scrawl my charcoal visions
the blood visions
   the primal mud
  on all our walls

can i piece back our home by your return ?
can I sufficiently correct the blurring history I've smutted ?
do i care to ?
no more fading into 'partner'
lease is up
you'll not find me here destroyed
or waiting
    naked but an apron with my hands cupped and mouth open
i'll have ravelled myself up tight
- having stoked my inhuman malady -
     i'll mate my own travels

                                                        ­             - aborted

Let's discuss The Redpath...

It's a way of base-studded energies

It is an expression of pains
With brief relief and heavy repercussions

It has ,in mind, the idea of a powerful hunter
But creates, instead, a coward of heady minded ignorant opportunity

It feeds with an already full and greasy belly

It's a wealth of pleasure exceeding to become sickness

It discards friends and favours ugly company

It is extremity
It is ****** and criminal imagination stretched foul and giddy
It forsakes cloth less and honest art

It takes to the air but comes up biting

It rids horror
Only by taking the part of horrors drama until it bonds no more

It spacks you open
And spares you scrappy litter

It degrades you when it promised you bliss by annihilation
And sleep upon oblivion

There's just futility when you pound on the the remaining closed door with bratty fists of anguish

It's pollution ; a rotting expense
Don't play with The Redpath

                      - Coal bitter heart tar

the wind beasts upon the frills ;
       the hills that border the woodland
the skies are busied
      and plum heavy to grey
everything is weighed down upon
       bunching
         damp and thick

who is lupine for this forest scene ?

a crew
an approach of the laboured breath
  guns and hunters
   bonded in shared intent
   they slow their knackered *****
   this is
   for them
  unravelled...
this is
new map

glances to their guide
they ferry her much mistrust
   a suggested local
    she promised them wolves
    canines of the mythology
they assume they'll take pelts
she assumes
the wolves will take the hunters

they break at the skirting
  just free of being overshadowed
gentle creaking bellows
  hauling and uffing ;
    an action amongst the trees
        a filtered drawing of nutrients
          a gill work
the men view this enemy dimension
and make ready their advance

peek inside for derelict conflict....

feel strung upon
        by the permeable substance of the climate
follow the underdrum
    the spelling heart
observe trinkets of sign ;
   an exposed nest of eggs
      a silver comb
       a cracked hand mirror
        a meaty welling of fungi tongue
       and a scissored up ladies bonnet
    :treats,
detritus
and trophies

in the dank woodland setting
  you bear foreign faces
    and you become
      tacked to your ration-less actions
refined within growth
   the blood'll quicken
life stories of abuse-ment
   have made a tumid bruise of Mothers udder
this feast has history
and sitting
  and wit
this selection of trees
this marred ground
the gathering weather

what are the wolves to their guide ?

she walks
  Fathers axe loose in one hand
    pre welcomed
      into this unfettered fancy
she takes off her red velvet cap
  and lets it to litter
     ; token

she has crossed the barrier with company
   no pity for her fellows
those she escorts
are offerings
and she a returning guest
  most welcome

all the forest characters
the 'monsters'
  shall greet her teeth to teeth
   and the meal on their breath
     shall match hers

the hunters pick into the womb
   silent
     professional
       and stalking
their weapons point their way
the guide follows
  caution-less
    casual
      revisiting childhood

.....the love showed up...
..mocking at my door..
...scratching imperfections...
..into the paint..
...till my senses jarred...
..and the manor with which I viewed this world..
...was declared
(feast in maw)
"Dealt with"

I battered open the door
And let in
An overwhelming nutritional excess....
.....refeeted in this way
I was handed all this :
The damage was
a Rinth of Life
when all I wanted
was a page to unfold

I must reflesh my memory
It's getting gammy in here
Flush it
Charcoal silt, pured water and oxygen
Prey attention to memory
Tend to it
Till it
Till it's clear and consistent in it's dishonesty :
A single picture
One linear note
And no deviation.

I want to understand human purpose ;
The doubtless impaired devotions that deviate from
‘The Human Idea’
There’s something ‘recovered’ that persists in each life
yet
in each life
it is usually
quashed habitually
These purposes are mused from off of the makings of our lives
and
when applied
can become true
unearthed work
a driven propulsion
a ‘*******’ or offering to the ‘Creator Idea’
a truth of an individual view
or
at least
some sort of an approximation.

moment met
awful mounts familiar
an umbilical knell
wrench away
             from any flare up of communication
                                 any trail that could form
                                                 saliva stretched
                                     from our shared space
                                                            and span


away
before a diseased gut rebinds us