They told him about | the debt and the problem with sunspots, but | he just had his feelings, and they were | strong | feelings | at that, and they washed | all those people away

Hid tigers | under his | long | fluttering lashes

They explained about | hours and the | curriculum | Their voices sounded | so far off, a dry | susurrus | of bees on a | deserted | island

The truth was raising its immense post-industrial cities around her, but she liked the downy | hair on his upper | lip, a | silver | haze of freshness

Kisses bigger than | Kant, strawberries | stain | Descartes

Semiosis came for them and carried them off and yet | somehow | they were still here and | she liked the band, their sound was so | hesitant and tender

Fell out | of her skull, like a fledgling | out of a | nest [it took her | years to recover]

He watched them | propping up the | dangerous building with the | scaffolding and | buttresses || In their bodies whenever they wanted to, almost, they | could find rare flowers | with | powerful, tropical scents and they | could spend hours | picking off the | petals, one | by | one

And on the TV they were busy | measuring the distance to the | end of space, but | he just | yawned and | opened his eyes | wide, and | she knew the season was | changing, because | she saw | indolent tigers | moving through the forest again | It would soon | be the time | of the hunters

Running out of money, dying young, leaping into the mouth | of the volcano || I lie on my side on a | puce chaise longue in a | deserted chateau | draped with wedding-cake | cobwebs and | overlooking the | slow-flowing | river in the | sheltered | autumn valley below… … … … || I laid out all those | moments in a line | like sweets to | lure from the | woods | the beautiful | ogre… || And on the TV, some | politician | of whatever | persuasion | is laying out | a route map | a | road map | an | idea of | progress, but I | just like the sound of the word | ‘mercury’ | when you | say it || Plaster falling | off the walls | and the chandeliers | all | slumped and tangled || You have | more room in one | interesting dream than | they can conjure | from a thousand | visions | of | normality || And when you kiss me, where are they going to | put that | in their history? || Insurance and | security, they have their | plans to their | status | blueprints to what’s | real | build all | night long | and they | pile all their | precious | powers over | signs | into something | someone else | once told them || You know, I don’t | really | get it || Meanwhile, birds and squirrels eat all the sweets, and the | ogre doesn’t come, and you whisper into some stranger’s ear | ‘honey… honey… honey and mercury’…

 


from the series bliss point | angels of disorder
(open-ended, 2012–present)
(this poem: July, 2012)

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