SOME WORDS ON NON-WRITING

PRECISION

Rustling memo scraps high above the town looming
We got that unshakeable impression that our coming here was out of time
Out of tune so as not to meet or come across spring cleaning in the windows a cloud
Riveted over the wood
By the time wind drifted memories the town’d
Been void enough for encountering spaces one transparent the other
Superficial to elevate high up the sky they will grow in time tall and full
As words one hardly remembers
They will later meet again but circumstances will be in the way
Collateral’s long awaited arrival will come too early eventually to
Finish off with proper dignity and substance but – perhaps –
One should not rely on
The indispensable thus static thus ending elements however unnerving absence
Seems to be at the table clad in white waiting for the visitors to go
Away leaving all the negligible and accidental spots behind
It is so weird
When revelation gets mixed up with roars of laughter proximity
Gives hope we only need some coolness from the distance
Sometimes one gets a better picture it’s only words though which do not
Ever shape up
And ask for forgiveness as they had acquired the knowledge and wisdom and
No power still is capable of turning them into reality the table is the scene of fight
Not to reveal not to allow in vain however as no coming out
Will ever sink in
And the hunch is nothing compared to music (indispensable) in the world that
Disappears abruptly in the spotlight with no audience in the front row the guests
Are having fun
No-one escapes where has eloped the eyes supported by nothing only
Adorn the head, which is so determined and committed and perplexed so
The body entertains the visitors in unproductive gestures
That mean nothing
And nothing comes to nothing pitch darkness was nowhere in sight
To catch the shadows of the chosen ones the order took over the venue wiping off
The impartiality of sentences no associations no contexts
So be it
It so often happens that the order disorganizes life which is valued by so few
I am thinking hard what to choose objects came into possession of their weight
Suddenly and leaning towards the opposite tried hard to stay
Unnamed
With no strings attached they form relationships so a voice from afar (vicinity
Would make it distrustful) was observing closely as power in the night
Trespassed silence transformed in a couple of sounds whispering that
The coming is nigh

And it all ended up with no conclusions drawn in which the dancers might have
Completed their act but here you are you receive a letter informing you of another
Season opening - professional as it were lack of powers of observation becomes
A burden for a while
Rounded off elegant statements take their places not discerning not destroying
Not creating in spite of clamour made up between the table and the anxiety and
An uncertain glance into some dry disinterested distance

OFF THE CUFF STUFF

An Apple
A smile, a friendly face, life is good, a stroll down the beach.

Knowledge
Sweet as sunlight in the rain and a pancake with blueberry stuffing you dash in to say that we are over. The world is grinning, sinister, dust goes off the eyelids. I see I must face the music. Bridges drawn up the sky is blown up the universal truth revealed, unnoticed. Is it better?

A mirror
Lifetime guarantee only please

Satisfaction
Up yours!!!

Anal sex
Extra-uterine pregnancy

Every Time I See You
Too short, too little, never often enough

Accuracy
Cumulus, cirrus, lucifer orbis out my window

J.S. Bach

God
Gosh,
Always losing those keys of mine.
When you are falling
And the voice is breaking up
Between a way and an approach
When the god above smiles in green
Calm and certain coolness falls down with you
To make the space palpable




AN EXCUSE

It has already been written and it will be again and again and again.
Empty scrolls hold all the magic. Hundreds of worlds
Uncharted, words unspoken, senses unexpressed. Fresh
Hues burning. Unheard-of halftones flowing.

Had I not heard perhaps the dissonance
A great highly artistic indispensable to no-one
Artefact of art inexpressible or inexpressive
Vacuum

Had I kept the distance and stood by the side
In its stead I watched daydreaming as my mouth
My eyes tore me apart in silence

Had I banned words from
Naming the world

Had I not recognised myself

A hum of impartiality, a pellet of irony
Musica mundana
But
I am asleep tonite between clean sheets
And don’t give a shit for sophisticated Honneger
Or crystal clear Pierre Boulez
Or all the Saints of every Here and Now

I had a dream
A teddy bear
With blood shot eyes
Changing skin

Professional
Night
Watch



A COUPLE OF WORDS ON NON-WRITING

‘t ain’t my job to guess
colours
not my duty to peel off
meanings
looks like a juicy night
rounded off nicely caressing
my lack of vigilance i tease
‘em don’t jot ‘em down
In forgetfulness I find
A fabulous word broken in half
It will be there pending between
Memory
When it crashes down with a bang
In a few years I will be there to see it
That’s it


ON WRITING

In two grams
In a couple of moments maybe
There is the future
For me to decipher
A few handsome expressions
This conversation is going nowhere
Ubiquitous unnecessary flat flavours
Of a dinner lingering near here

Banter has the shape of empty
Chair at the window and dull colour
Of untrained hand

Whoever is singing this tune
With a voice as dead as veins
Full of alcohol and the day is so sharp
As hunger
To get it
And with a stroke of luck
Arrest in a word
And liberate


DEAD SILENCE

This credit card of ours has many applications.
You can cut a throat.
You can make a line for a sniff.
You can squash a fly for fun for instance.

Silence
Around
The world