Monday 27 March 2017

Sonnets are Impossible.

What are sonnets? We just don't know.

Currently trying to write one every day. Predictably I wrote a few then charged off into a few days and forgot to do my homework. Posting them here is an act of penitence, because only one of these is any good and the others are very pretentious. I promise to try harder. Sonnets are really difficult.





Thursday 2 March 2017

Slack Against the Comittee

SLACK AGAINST THE COMMITTEE - A CHARM

for Dolly Turing


The moon blushes from worship,
feeling sorry. Ten stories above
the cellar the committee meeting,
people are made to act out,

like lawyers of  precious old
time, & time is currency. Time,
the diurnal departure from life
forced and regulated, pressure valve

turned two quarters to left
airflow, the flume, the unbearable
leaking, traces of hair & skin left
quiet in the boardroom, because fuck

the boardroom, the ballots, proportionally
represented illuminations, each twenty
three by twenty three harmonic inches
basic in a self regulating unconscious

pattern. It's not on purpose. The force
of regulation is a jail the brain walks
in with good will hoping the
wall this time can stand for what,

Justice? A Just jail rising in its concrete
strength to support the weaker weight
of the tired body, the doors and windows
wide open. But they suck, They haven't

the power to slack even for a minute,
every slant is a tooth, albeit soft
& gracious & all the finance we could
dream of. The REM stops and tightens

blinkered, becomes another meeting
in the polystyrene conference hall; those
that meet well eat first the head down
sucker in structure, no moon to take
                                                           the whole the day off.