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Showing posts from September 13, 2016

The Sheer Grey Bulk of Lead

Great curling toes ripple in the cheap light. The pugilist corp takes the field. They're expecting an enormous bumble-stooge, one with a dour gift and a strident glide in its stride. While talking amongst themselves they also decide that, Some virtues are going to have to be enough. That the massive iron and steel jack-a-man can stare down on their ranks like it's facing a table of cyphers. That this is a dour gift of the morning and that forward into the warm squint of day they'll continue. - Generic Frustration I am like the power of history, much read but clearly misunderstood. I am like the power of history, the kind of story that puts out again and again. I lean back on a hot summer night and listen to the radio wail. I smack the ribbon of my lips and dry my hands. I am not this worried for the power of every small friend that I see. I'm not this worried for you. I am like the power of history, I worry and carry the groceries to the other side of the street. Lord …

Styles of Waiting

Lift this wheel Lift this wheel my legs are going to fold My horse is in the hey hey hey I think this hole is going to stay stay stay So lift this wheel lift this wheel the sand is so unkind I'd look you in the eye but I haven't got the time time time - O' March Hatter at the Swing of this Field Oh hey the happy happy. The dark lined curtains are drawn, tied, and held fast. The lurch of it in the fake noon of a midnight sundries shop cowers like a pie of lazy glut. Glue, rows and rows of handsome blue bottles on the narrow shelve's behind the plate glass. Piles of sticks and old blind tissue cram this stupid puppy space.
Next door is gloomy too there's hardly any light at all. The old day's hunkered away behind some old light that's just hanging in a self defining pall of notchic catatonia. Crowds of math putter filing in too stand under the cheap seats that are under the wooden clock in the middle. This math gets brittle and then it gets bent when it'…