the unknowable transforming point 346/ 350

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass


You need to show me who you are
so we crash in the mindhills
is it about incapacity fairground
shooting coconuts
flip personality shifts
now you see me now you don’t
into little fast movements
claim a reward
for the time you skipped the rest
and left me for dead
shrink wrap the mindhills in wolf fleece
smell of the air of forest
lick lick slick that open wound
still open wide open at her now empty house
needs to heal cicatrix
into my cicatrix mythologised reality
sink sink sink sink
sink sink me sink me out of here
sink me
over hermetically sound silence
the you and the me of it
sound of my importance is clear to me
strangers looking and listening to the 4’33”
can hear it too
my wolf beside me
she might purr
soft snore
wolf dietrich
eat my pain
eat eat my pain
eat eat my repeat
eat my repeat pain
eat my sorrow
eat my continuous lack of importance
eat repeat
eat what you will
the silence eat the silence
this write
this night
this closuring
this time
this already feeling
this time
this way already
tear it up you can tear it up if you like
all that music unlikeable and deconstructive by temperament
forget the music
beat beat from the stream

It gets worse

Gymnopedies and the autograph book
kindle in italian and solange
it’s raining and grey old evening heavy swish
a drop here a drop there on the sky light
all the things currently memnotic
unshared perspectives corridor of ficfuc
stand to attention the stage is mine
if you please and thank you
don’t upstage and unplant her lilliana of the lindy
chocolated evening encrusted bag
powdering her visage with colour and pigment
already the audience rustles into the appointed hall
at the contemporary hour
such agreements in the air
it gets worse this invective etc to the long beat
bearing down on nothing
to tell veronica and the other names
their independent existences
have nothing to do with klavierstucke infrequently busked
on the nearest piano even in a station
don’t believe until you see it cramped out

Phone phobic

Internal conversational
external blinkering
for the need to remain observational
phone phobic after years of demented cold calling
who to trust meandering script
sell you anything
repeat repeat
go the length with good behaviour politeness
the reality not dissimilar to a phone piranha

Lights vertigo

While the way to that house opposite the bbc
nice place
just about live there on a journalists stipend ordinarily
off to america
what did you want from that experience enriching new york
I hope where you stayed was sound
the siren flicker
the lights vertigo
empire state
planet earth etc

Stir stir

Grey dull imperceptible clouds in their gosh
on the long holidays on the isle of bute
boats coming in the wake of new school
when all things considered
the crustaceans stretched in thin air
pleading to be put back in the water
in and out different kids doing something
then ice cream and sore solar plexus
from cold air of other planets
no piano in that house house to speak of
the endless bore of summer
hardly any sunshine
stormy grey skies and seas aroused
waiting for the next forlorn expression
it was only that shift again
returned forward with mellotron
play sleep back on the boat in a blink of a eye
was that venice
or kyles of lochalsh
brenner pass
or so on
goodbye cruel world sit round drinking coffee
stir stir the sweetness
scooped up at the end with long spoon
that’s what you do you
when in the restaurants or in motta
call me when you reach the severn bridge


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