sadmanbarty
Well-known member
The dead, having learnt the secret
of happiness, return as grass.
that's great
The dead, having learnt the secret
of happiness, return as grass.
Stuff like
Pallid yellow petalled in the lawn
Of
Cup of sorrow sobbing harbinger of tears
Are basically jingles.
Corporate sponsorship. Negative rapture. The body annulled no information / cessation of the data-stream. Vision-screen breaks into TV snow, then dies.
Vagabond river, low companion, with the seamen and the dockers
Skies the grey of crystal, instant of ecstatic memory
Vagabond river, low companion, with the seamen and the dockers
and the beggars on the wharves.
Was it with the barges
ploughing up the water and the little boats moored and nodding
with the movement of the waves. Muscled water strident, strandent, swift surging
onrush of green river running east to sea.
To the inconsolable, dark water, eddying
Death undone so
And we are the inconsolable, kicking at the stones.
tallow grease hide under repentant moon
gobble
gobble
any degradation suffered
for the momentary illusion
of love
or something like it
in the strong arms encircled wrapped around.
Moon biscuit.
Here's your ticket take it step
aboard.
Avarice Shore gold rain shower sea
all glittery
Dolphin
into air
And back again.
sounds like something from one of those 70's childrens shows. like the clangers or the magic roundabout.
is also chimes with all these kind lower-middle class comfort signifiers dotted throughout. the poem's got nimby qualities to it. it's a certain view of london from a very specific socio-economic perspective.
Yeah vegetable empire does that a lot too.
I was never a schoolboy with a satchel scuffing against the spine but that schoolboy is an integral part of English literature. He haunts English literature, he lives there, In its imaginary
I was never a schoolboy with a satchel scuffing against the spine but that schoolboy is an integral part of English literature. He haunts English literature, he lives there, In its imaginary
you know when corpsey called me a cunt for not being a proper lad on my blog. there's something innate in the english language to make you someone you're not. it's structures and syntax contain the ghost of some weird posho who got spanked at public school. it's a possessed language.
Collapse of all boundaries and all discrimination. Mind shredded. Bone grinding against bone. Mind shearing. We are broken. Nothing coheres. Nothing is allowed to cohere. No separation, no sanctuary, no hiding place.