27 April 2012
There are more people in this city than yesterday or the day before for that matter Summer's finally here for a final five minutes of silence sweating like a confused android dusty and romantic as hell
A can of beans is only appealing on glance not considered or thought through too carefully merely turned in the hand without its label just a vague discolouration on the side
Even spider plants are abused or whores shagging nearby cacti in dead-end alleys, their roots like burn victim rhubarb picked by men in sandals
I collected peanuts in an empty glass mistook them for pistachio cases left them begging beneath a merciless, blue sky Torino was just a name or promise of meaningful old age golden and tarnished by impotence fretting over mortgages and cholesterol
Vine creepers with dainty white flowers grasped at black plastic rain pipes making their way toward the roof before being cut back and denied ascension chalkboards attempted irony were found wanting both in product and production
Who reads these things? Who camps on desire? Who can grasp a chalice about the neck not be swayed by greed or lust or commerce? Who can while away their youth without cracking, becoming an ill-maintained South London pavement littered with half arsed forest fire fuel crisp packets and cigarette ends?
I knew a girl and her name was Jessica or Francesca or Mandy or Alison or Bunty or Laura or Maya or Katie or Cat or Lauren or Pippa or Jo or Hannah or Stephanie or Michelle maybe it was Prax we carried one another a while and sank were buoyed up by collective emotional weight
I knew a man I don't remember his name It was something beginning with the first letter of the Zodiac mad and interred by imagination maybe it was Father He carried all my possessions to a crossroads where I hoped to meet damnation and success yet found only more road stretching off three ways into a wide and varied distance badly drawn in charcoal a triforce of decisions I have yet to make
Humidity and thirst are high motivating factors along with poverty, infertility and disease you can drink water from the Thames allowing the sediment to settle gulp it down and be relieved Death will still come for you despite promise despite love in spite of will power
Seasons hold change for everyone message in their movements through a language propagated by Dolphin's or rainbows where the end disappears amid squeaks and clicks
How many seconds are there in a year definable not by any clock or calendar which you make use of which you treasure and swear are special and unique? Is repetition the slow death of energy not only in muscular expenditure but granular fatigue in the gradual disappearing of coastal landmass in the sifting of pebbles or settling of glass?
Conclusions are easily avoided by vice and poison pushed under the surface of lakes in New Zealand remodelled into spelling mistakes shopping lists lemons bladder-fullness
In one sitting I find I'm able to condense my thoughts into smoke on a mirror into dirty feet and trailer park gossip passed around or tapped from bulk-buy wine boxes
Things used to be cheap cheap but now they're expensive heavy or light without substance and so are internally heavy as though something has been lost or become vague and disappointing
A rabbi, a skunk and a clown enter a casino A policeman, a rock and Krishna enter a pawn shop A demon, a candle and an offshore technical operator enter limbo
Kinetic expectation is withheld bottled or scripted by comedians and hacks and Webber still, there are more people in this city than yesterday
J. x
Virginia Talking • Opuss № I