Tuesday, 15 April 2014

100. Noi, i puerili, gli infalsifabili

I hear
a lot
hopeful &
still awaitin’
to be
fair and
for you
oh for
you –hoo

sun’s grand
in winter
at least
dirty worlds
lit up
and clear

the old
hundredth – how
lovable now
such material
a world
joyfully singing

xmas soundtrack’s
not better’n
nothing – no
just noisy
unnature obtruding
almost springing
a year
or so
I’d leave
it all

oh god
so much
coffee: montage
ragged fragments
inybrimidwintle &c
not clear
but sparkling
too excess

ok then
when is
the revolution
now to?
you poets?
gently circling
again and
this again
that’s good
if you
think it
doesn’t stop
even at
this hundredth

six hours
to morrow
what justice
is this
hasn’t started
not even
going there

she’s sleeping
an obelisk
a confabulation
an excess
at rest
for now

what’s shaken
here is
careful toys
them only
to work

[grimble!] [grimble!]
wild &
nutritive and
any words
not like
a blunder
but like
it is

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