Verity Spott. Poet. 'He'd make a big show of sticking the two torn halves in his wallet. When we buried him, Frank and I tossed the last two halves he gave us into his grave. Here ' 'Between the two torn halves of my soul are cities and climates' 'Place those two torn halves of the map together again and you are re-enacting the history of the Silurian to Devonian periods' 'The two torn halves promise but never deliver full restitution'
Wednesday, 11 June 2014
#GRATATA
It's time I got serious about this little space here. Let's pin them down and flatten them out! #GRATATA!
Tuesday, 10 June 2014
HIYA
First myth then science working out
unwanted letters, formula
I SLIP UNHEARABLE minus C,
have lacked too greedily
how purple goes & goes & barely comes
back the same & I’ve waited over here
I have this dream it comes back & I’ve waited
over in the dream by the derelict
tube st stations which I carry my cross. First
myth then I carry my cross working out
the unwanted letters used to smell me
indent particular I carry dreams
wait over here in dreams as I carry
my dream
to the derelict tube & terrified,
I’ve turned into a thousand shades
of pointless single letters
formula I am
incapable oh yes girl yes the sea
from the stars &
the home I’ve waited to go home over
& over you rest that shape the cross up
against the tube. That shape, that gang of rust
rotting boy & there & there. Between
the letters is a nest muds, twigs, shit^ . &
nearside is a tube a derelict
ion a fouled steam & I like it
always carried in my dreams the most rot
the shamed desire to go and go and
barely come back
over I carry my dreams I wait here & you
can give me a thing I can hold in
light and say this is
a good thing I remember that
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