(00) SWISSSNOOZE

dayworks (DRAFT/UNFINISHED)

and to work 

  his work—

   alien is his work!

     is to be drawn, through

lips with coal 

    the names

 in the mud, 

   pissing while 

the door-post

  is at a loss

as much 

again 

    as you

  settle down

the tops of 

your feet, 

my meals 

   with fair 

crofting 

        is not wasted

 but spent

among

  their numbers

continue to grow in 

some cheap 

poorer indefinite 

 as to date

CMNGHME

the finical 

    here flushed 

to zero for 

all pause in 

the margarine 

mouths as only the 

knocks and tunes in 

reactor limps 

out o'clock 

starts seed, 
         in the 

arching and 

the drilling pieces 

sirens off the hook 

 sinking upon the 

moments of closing 

its own reward, 

the old 

sky tips its 

word title, 

on ugly little 

flowers, so 

sun glows 

because of it, the 

insistent

cloth is singed 

soft the

 trade points 

your hands 

and feet

I/S

apart from the child

   Or       who has

                                                         to     pay 

                     in                   the cloud

                                 tells you           to do it,

                                      grown          thin      

                converting

                                   waking      and    

                     sleeping

                                   it is        your       nature

          and machine

                                                       as

                         work      has the same

                      gestures as love 

                            it is part         of it, 

     satisfied by

                             again to 

              survive it,  

                       with what      

       we don't know

 and so 

            are kind

                          to        the flowers,

              where all wounds

repart    glowing

                                           the angels 

in the pub 

efit (015)

efit (014)