want to be
uncivilised
with dull sky Summer late morning
crows at yellowgreen verges
piss in a bottle
then pour out
at driving speed
human brine
Well, no-one there now
at the levers.
hangers-on people about
from before stick people
to pretend away
Is it a mistaken thing, this bad action
lump of self?
That what won't be shifted
stickiness
remindering
hand-squeezed figurine
uncleanness
a warm mist halo
all around
species made up
of small or insignificant hurts
And yet here's a sparkling
evental fadeout and gap with Sun in.
Still. And still, wetness
at that point;
glistening overcoat.
the victory cape I got given for
wearing out
You write in condensation:
we are
almost scum
today
but not.
This is a beautifully measured distancing of the self as discovered in a wander through the image (wreckage) yard of memory. A portrait of the artist as youthful acute sensitivity, defined by its resistance to whatever or whoever would define it as scum -- or as anything. The cape was given for wearing out and/but is worn out. In this projected doubleness is found victory.
ReplyDeletea warm mist halo
all around
species made up
of small or insignificant hurts
And yet here's a sparkling
evental fadeout and gap with Sun in.
Still. And still, wetness
at that point;
glistening overcoat.
the victory cape I got given for
wearing out
Thank you, TC.
ReplyDeleteThe doubleness you point to is crucial. To be honest in writing in any way. you have to sit with it, I reckon.
Living with the truth that remembering can never be recovery is hard.