Walking towards Sennen

A stone pointing

out of

its thinness

vertical

is it standing?

weigh the possibility

abstractedly

intellectual cire perdu –

and deem it ancient

on the downs’ peak

asymmetric huge marbles

                          piled up

on a rough grounding

till land beneath them shall be washed out

or the town impose regularity

even that far

                      and stability sags

land eroding

land dissolved

put in new places

here       approaching

the last continence...

shoeing the sky

away... to reach

the lost syllables of continuance

vowels in silence

clinging to prickly consonance

pictographic collocations of bodily gesture

cows in a field

farts ascending

all things near becoming sibilant and breathy aspiring

thoughtless of life force as marketing

each coast slides in to apprehend

slowly, meaning merges with its carrier

and one

              starts

                        to hear

surprised by voices

which don’t need a script

body writing over a country top’s

multidimensional line

lines

astride

fact of

walking

alef

alpha

A

indefinite

symmetrical

in particular no one

anyone who’s biped

not sheep and cattle double u’s and m’s and n’s

plosive utterance mooing and moaning

many-footed forgetting discourse of low sounds

A-figure

arm out at a gate or stile

an F, an E, an R perhaps

locomotive

F, R, E, a gate another E

perhaps? dream on

the open field’s

enclosed

Sigma in the act of climbing

rests on a baseline

functional

T beneath cables overhead

head forward at a ditch P

beer-gutted D

up near Trevalgan

two old gates lean sideways overlapping

in polymorphic unpronounceability

of straight lines  sawn in the air they occupy

i marches lowercase

whistling and sighing beneath

humming yarrow lines above

bursts of wind

go on

narrating

which dreams it?

which which dreams?

which which which dreams what?

question? no,

wrong question.

start again.

personal pronouns accepted:

I can make you mine

any time – more to words than metre –

I’m dreamin’ my life – a way

of making, sure of it,

rationalising externalities,

keeping the inside under observation

all these rocks are words

these words are rocks

rock on     log on

a still    astill astilbea a slit

leaving unleaving

the words lean and rest upon each other

some of the words... the rest do not

aggregate

some miscellany of wording

                    misleads put up.

the writing fades   thought is

         in the mouth and dies.

go in both directions. get slippery.

all announcements are doubtful. who

am I ? there for what?

indicative ambiguity.

tantalising presence.

uttering as a means of

time and measurement

each word some throwing

light as it flickers

from dished phoneme to

phoneme about to be

dished wax dribbles

mastering the voice

a dog’s head in a funnel

an ear on a speaking mouse

of men growing larger

enlarge on that. gorge yourself

engorged with blood. pillars of it

trembling in tubes

                               or that’s the

rapid alternation of the light

almost burned out, barber pole

tokens of barbarity and cleanliness

all a gentleman needs a cut-throat

razor, only part of him

                        the head

joined by arteries and skin

adjustments made to calibrate

on a line of pain and comfort

disgust and fear excitement

I exist! and I must die

precarious upon each instant

heart and beat art

and time together

two halves of the same

knot.

published in Liminal Pleasures # 1