Tags
2013, 6*, being, buying, centre, consumerism, driving, Have, identity, living, page, passing, progress, self, texture, travelling, writing
written relief to
creeping anaesthesia
through palimpsest
and crankled page
driving soaks you into
the process of passing
inexorable to progress
oblivious to a centre
here comes a service station
let me choose a centre to buy
inevitable to consume and then
obliged to define myself through
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
being wormhole: St. Mark’s flies flagpole upwards / with the forelegs hanging down obscene / reaching some height blindly to connect / out from the long-stalk tri-separating up- / to-seeded rounds of pod like acacia what / is it called “‘hogweed’ I-don’t-know- / what-it’s-called-but-goats-love-it-and- / it-makes-them-burp-a-lot”
Have wormhole: 20th century
identity wormhole: wakeoutofadream
living wormhole: lesson from watching two crane flies work the evening / skating across the panes flying and pushing legs grappling / the glass crossing repulsive over themselves and clinging akimbo / for a rest until lifeless just to get their stickly bodies through to the light
passing wormhole: municipal garden
texture wormhole: darkness
travelling wormhole: too much in arrival
writing wormhole: landscape of cloud over London / with differing depths of grey
mlewisredford 
the center cannot hold
but can we hold it? or
are we left holding
just another layer?
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I read your comment with a faux Scottish accent, preceded by ‘engin’ room here, Cap’n …’ and finished with ‘she canna take much more, Cap’n, we’ve lost three dilythium crystals already!’
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Dammit Jim! I’m a
doctor, not a poet!
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if I jumped to every light that flashed around here, I’d end up talking to myself …
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There’s a big difference between anesthesia
and synesthesia….
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but as the band Queen were wont to say in their liner notes ‘no synthesizers’
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