Monday, 13 January 2014

8. The Sound of You

“Consciousness has nothing to do with me either
I’m just moving inside it, catch as catch can’t”
Fanny Howe, Selected Poems (U Cal P, 2007, p 9)

High drips afford us all
Pellicules and kittens tend
Ketchup smells the clyster
Unexceptional in my opinion

The sheep’s nose swells the precipice
Writing hemp agrimony is madness
Beef – are we begging it to eat?
Unpleasant flesh presses us

Diseases front it formal facile or
Hew our shilling to initial an alliance
Ebola brilliant it ransoms form if
Deaf I aren’t definite the foe

Heroes ring our upper gnomes
Sweeping me in needled flesh
If space behold our prince in riding clothes
Issuing you assume it’s true

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