chip fork under nail
i wonder how
cassette ribbon
gets in the trees

unspooled
in hard square light
unwound of sound
and waving outward
over cold roads

does it hold
the 16hz
stomach rumbling

innermost thinkings
of a tree?

on its rings of neptune-
the dissonant roar
of saws
spinning
unreeled on tape

a nest of clefs
all undone around
the stylus brilliance of
spr i ng-

singing

lost woodlands
in occitanian
dreams of thrust and

how i love you
sky
how i very do

A small tug on my forelock
at the sweetshop lady

a sheela na gig hands me the small change
and slips a chocolate orange in me

Stumbling out I reflect on the fact
that its all rather painful really

and I go home to open myself outwards
to the computer

Later when I go for milk
the swallows make a pattern for me

a vast tapestry of flapping
like a bomb that casts birds on me

I watch them crashing down
and after a time it comes to me

nothing touches me right
nothing gets in my hair like a death doesn’t

and this landscape
full of liars
has got nothing to do with me

golden in your skin
with lips just opening to the sea
you’re a channel

and gone back
to the depths where all the
snapping fish say how do

your face
a world of lions
is secreted away
to where i wake myself in laughing

and i stop to not think of it-
your body
burnt onto mine
like a hole in my thinking

for the man of transparencies
that you may be
i think you could not be aware
of how barley in the wind
you have made me

see, you unwind my splicing
as you arc from the sea

and i am no longer in this poem-
for you have killed me

when i go

when i go
underneath
i am a
spoke
like lightning into sky
i cuts it
open with a silver
aching

i am old
but some hills are
worse
i'm vexed
a mess of blood
and pulp yet
still

made clear by the
tiny crocuses and
sheaves
scattered upon my breast
like the refraction
of
light
on water

sudden and insistent
as a day
you send me to the animals
with your kissing

dark white sky

from a dark white sky
you fell into
my snowy body
like sun

at the window of my
ice hotel from the

pools of your face.
i see them widening
like burst banks
of deep sky-brown.

i'm dreaming i like
the softnesses
of you,
your mouth hand-pink

in mine,
the stretches of fleece
that untundra me.
i tip

the stone cold nights
riverward to the fish
that sink to see me
shivering;

as opening elsewhere
like sunrise,

you bring out your flint
to unfurl me
in the blue orange flame
of your fire

wild hot deer

you open-
palmed
is
red
the spring
of me
a world
of wild hot
deer and
moon all
round of
bone and
cunt

and junk
of breasts my
full-
mouthed
inflorescent
god of
vicious
wet-
tongued
dreaming

old as
whirlwinds
we’re
instantly
your
hot dense eye
sinks down
like teeth
in the sea
of my
otherly
soil
slave-drunk
and new-

wreathed
catkin i
wrap myself
horribly
in blood for you-
your
cutlass mouth
of grim
shimmers
milk-pooled
in sun
dark
as silent

i watch
lamb-eyed
your fingers
that cut me
gut-open
as
love-

us sudden
and certain
as bleeding