Take the water from my lips | All the rivers in my heart | which ran through country churches and the | broken cubes of cities | the quiet fields where crops grow | dusted in chemicals and the farmers | aren’t around | Take them into your eyes | Connect them | Those empty days when you rested | your head against an ache of | school bells and | rusting bicycles | and cattle trudging | across… | the dissolution of the monasteries

A flat land | and an age of space | The sky with no | rhyme or reason | Take the sun from my lips, take anything you can | from my lips | The paper land | laid | waste and | folded away | A Protestant dullness of veneers and clocks | Abandoned barges | Newspaper shops with fading disasters | Lines of exiled | angels with passports and | dust suitcases | join the queues of the unwanted

Take the petals from my lips | smeared with cerise pollen | The terrible debris | of unloving | The horizon we made by | looking | smudged hopes and | wild scarlet mushrooms with their | unwitting | concoctions of poison | All the great events | in the little rooms | Block by block building | a city to | get | lost in | Light on windows | blinds you | and the darkness | blinds you, too

Take my lips from the sun and the fields | still whispering | Gigantic afternoons just full of “why?” | speckles of “where?” and | “when?” | Ponderous | machines of | helium and gold | This could go anywhere | and frequently does || Above all | Bolkonsky’s clouds | ants | reconnoitering the pages | Starting a river | inside a train | to lead me to you | Putting aside | a rat-a-tat of comic guns | for a tête-à-tête with an aimless god | one who | lost her ticket to heaven

Giving birth to dead cities | walking by the canal | Between the sea and the rivers | I have you || That land is so flat | The sky | has no prince | All the days | heap up | their transparent mountains | that once were a future | We ran towards them | Look | Who are those | tiny figures? | Are they | us? | So tiny! | Keep looking! | Are we still | here? | Can you still | see us?


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

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