First draft of a new piece. All comments welcome.
Sub
Let us speak of inconsistency and desire
and the lessening particles of meaning,
lessons more granular than selves,
obvious and beckoning from replete
and gargantuan concrete struts and stilts.
Let’s erect an architecture proven referential
and through appropriation and irony
more bloody and stinkingly carnal.
Let us ignore all truth as contextual aberrance
shuffling crowds might well invest
with deplorable hesitancy, the dildo life,
brazen speech roughly unencumbered
which we cannot absolve, nor solve, these shits.
And let us move limpid (and fucking legless)
into the inchoate and anodyne washes,
rural narratives, vatic and oracular,
though scared shitless and languid in fetid
orange light we might flee. We might as well
take on other notions of systematic
ersatz wanking, although quantifying
the immeasurable remains uniformly do-able
and in the clangour accept loud showers
on the diffident and gum-cemented paving
mucking up the arcade, the starving gull, the pigeon.
When all’s unknown again we can stir
from the gammon air long nights of swifts,
the slithering tongues arcing into duff cantos
and a withering desert of prospect lies, lies
past the grey shed, soft acres shuffling
to our approximate travels and fatty zeroes.
--
All the best,
Chris
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Christopher Emery
3 Ratford's Yard
Great Wilbraham
Cambridge
CB1 5JT
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