Thursday, 18 February 2010

numbers 91-95

it was a quiet morning at the zoo
i slept on long into the afternoon
it was like the world was so young
it didn’t exist
i looked good in those clothes
soon i noticed my lips were sticky with rain
i decided to love science like sex
i unlearnt numbers
i decided to spell language separately
i decided i’d never say

not another word
i thought they were dead & i was
i noted how the lyric i was a rip
off the moon’s conjunctivitis
i wrote a letter concerning this
to those whom it concerned
later i noticed my lips were no
longer sticky with rain
i kissed my mirror image
until my mirror image struck me to the ground

i forgot all forgotten names
i watched the parade of the disappeared
disappearing on tv
i slept long into the afternoon
i kept watch all night through
it was not as if zoo animals were invisible
for the sky was white as the sea
or as her throat which was
a cadmium scar popular songs nailed
to my thought like a nightdress

in a body-bag i developed a skin
rash & wings it was then
i noticed something was different
i experienced nostalgia for that different something
i noted how on still days
tall buildings shook in the storm
i could be fucked
then i couldn’t the bourgeoisie
decide it's ok to be fascist
i develop wings & a rash

of the skin see-through
poppies & escalators &
retail outlets the storm fell
calm i noted how on stormy days
tall buildings stood immobile
it was ok to be just be
i just sat in a chair & typed & then
i stop typing & i continued
typing & i understand why her voice
has that habitual perfume, yes

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