the unknowable transforming point 356/ 360

433 little poems
fictive autobiographical gazing
through the piano looking glass


Leave it out
sunshine on the london stairs
gripping fears about what exactly
precarious life and aftershocks
tinker tinker little tunes
thru the word demented beat
never look back amalgamemnon
look back textermination
look back
want to read those love letters again
locked and tin boxed somewhere inaccessible
to sound of motorbike collonade
low rumble razzle right turn west to the shore
westerly breeze and sunset
invisible masterpiece of a cloud filled sky
don’t listen to the voices screaming child wordless
veronica for a change
hello i’m vanessa
next time
hello i’m valerie
used to play who’s in the room round the clock
wednesday was the psyche
sit sit
sit still
quiet white coat
weird stuffy room
now what exactly was all that trying to say

Intrauterine exclamation mark

The mobile van in the supermarket car park is here
to irradiate your breasts one at a time
clench your horror
tight steel environmental
relax why don’t I
plates wind it in further
till drink me down a rabbit hole
sterility ficfuc
see them where you go
saves thinking about what
herd manifestations
a pin yourself together phrase like that
means discreet discretion
words imprinted safety leaflet and reception
sterile swabs intrauterine exclamation mark
put it on hold
listen to which music
press two for classical
non si puo andare la giu senza permesso ti dico
the piano talks back in a variety of expressive expletives
if your not careful ranging form the sublime
when the ivory at the top just springs out of place
and on a dry summer day can be pushed back into place
or ficfuc
she’s out of time
temperature and humidity
and the worn corners of the schumann complete works
with staples that cut your fingers
if your not careful
1st edition to you bannerman
belonged to someone else’s pianist
time’s up


Go with the christine brooke rose
I’m with dippermouth
jazz it up on the piano stool
change time signatures and ecco
lop off some of the boring bits
pin yourself together
rest plank over the key storm
and leave the traffic left at the next junction
for the middle of nowhere

Behind you

Dust in my eye
there’s a little incline
behind you
when your reversing
in a driving test
don’t cut the corner

Score out

Panic don’t picnic in the snow
sit down have a good breakfast like eggs
and hot patchouli
before the razor fog hits the fan
half scraped slice of toast if your lucky
long scribbles score out
when words hit the magnetic fields
curly vented circles and score scar the page
so I never can reread the obliteration
narratives come and go
collaged back from it’s all go
rightfully propping my books dictionaries kindles pen and sellotape
whit fir
as promised 27 months ago
when it populated furthermost corner of my room
digital piano to the far right
facing large window and writing in the light of it
greyer clouds than previously imaginable
maybe I never needed to take long journeys on time lines
but oh
i’ve got textermination somewhere in my book abyss
yes forgot to read that one


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