09.09.25
Claridges house red
hyacinth someone else's city
suicided with fantasies of power
I copulate with the careering lie
payslips undo in the night
most things are naked & afraid
crawling inside a seller’s hand
everything passes before us
as beautiful then tragic then
x commodity A = y commodity B, or
anti-light hors d'oeuvre
a part of the infinity of the Poet
L'amour de l'art even people
will not come to be counted
out someone's willing mouth
singled down as a property
of its own existence
but what have I taken
might in fact have been
revenge evacuated on bathroom floors,
in the sinks of tall houses
in the who Fucks who,
& who do's worse
a small bronze venus flytrap
gently ironised without falling
into irony warm over cold
the canapéd little hates
go back in the count
Beneath the Oppressive Cloud
