A fresh collection of poetry for the first time this June. Although it has not yet been published, I think my last manuscript is complete. Now I can work on my next set unhinged.

What a relief

 here is your doe eyed conflict
  away from here in broken buildings

 and what do you cover
      yourself, animals, grinning awareness
  they do not do it primitive
   they do it under neath your head

   here is your polite keyhole
  plugged with grass because you believe
   in nature and leniency

   there is a gas leak

   and when they said to count
    you climbed into the drain
      and instantly aged

        you sell fruit
         oranges, lemon

---

Desperate and in a frame

  I wore a white t-shirt
and questioned my essential homeliness
I made the telephone wood
a road of pantone stones
 and I spoke to so many new peoples
 who respected my lack of dignity

 mainly I retold books I hadn’t read
  something about a bread line and
ASIA minor
     stopped the tea
    with two large cubes
     and reasserted my
     essential assertiveness

the sky moved here as a projection
 I held a ring of thick keys
 and thought about girlfriends
           he would have thought
            this mattered
 each line undone by kettle steam
 in glasgow’s roads a tosser limped
 little burns aside my eyes
 hungry swans and chicken’s breath

 Going back with a head

              on top of
                            the bar

---

I raised a liter up of gas

tolerance was breed into this
red boy with open jaw how
to stay alive how to stay alive
truly concentrating— oh a metal saw
this cut across a wrapping putrid
in liberty or dreaming of a fascist france
with peasants on the firing squad and
peasants on the blindfold walk a
thought of fascist artist then
three bricks of paints from little
king a roll of bread sees this woman
face my tumbling off and rolling
spoke this broken fist a shovel pulled
an installation oil reserve my
money’s gone I’m of no class
my money left my sister left
All fields here become quite blue
the thirty guns with polished ears
carry me on my face goes
flat this woman’s face I held
her head up and drank coffee
until I couldn’t hold a plate
let alone a sliding draft
became unstuck I left alone
her pleasant mouth we had
a thought we could not save I
could not save you all I’m sorry
we still will have our gallic lies
we still will have you please come back

---

 0 —-

our pointisthat
     withnothing done
     allsignals off
    the light shut low

my operator
      I am lonely