Snapshots for 27th June 2007

World full of trouble
but Planet keeps on

keeping small things
bird on a wire cheeping
in bright sun lit

& in their nest upon the hydro
pole eaglets squall
hidden still
grey mother hovering

male's aloof white head
impervious to cries & traffic noise
gazing out upon the river
bridge fields the small
running food to come

wheels down
landed

ill a day
paying the bill

'if it keep on a rainin ...'
the price of slavery
and coaldust in
my rearvision mirror

con upon context
chronotope compress

scheduled by the treatment units which
finish snap. Changes so you can see
other letter is “A”. Rescued more
movie & tv stills by hitting the return key instead
of download of uncertainty.

This is the trick, my love - a sleight
of mouth to slay the sentence
gone wrong, speech despite

mewing, gurgling in the night,
vowel-torn on an angry fence.
This is the trick, my love - to write

of distance, loss of sight
and fractured, fissile sense
gone wrong; to speak despite

knowing less and less. Alight
upon your weakest bone and hence,
this is the trick. My love, the light

shines through us, makes us slight.
Throwing our voices, we are translucence
gone wrong, still speak despite

that empty mouth. Its bite
will swallow our diffidence.
This is the trick, my love. The sleight
gone wrong, the speech despite.

She was
a bit concerned
about their sex life
and his new obsession
mania the weather
before making love
he checks her
as foreplay for
acid rain,adabatic
advection,advection fog
air,air mass ,air pressure
particularly her albedo
anabatic ,anemometer,
angular velocity,anti cyclones
and atmospheric pressure
and that she sadly reflects
is just the A's
and it took him
the whole weekend
to get to zephyr
and zonal flow

with the miniature bonfire dot
of the cigarette flicked
the street quiets,
& cozy trenches of black
line the street in morse
where the lamps stand distant―

a still photo of déjà-vu lights
is calming night's buzz:
nnnnn
where familiar dips in & out
without threat―

and I hum
with a kicked stone
skipping from vision to vision.

then the unseen comes to
hunger that erupts to a moan
& the street says
rrrrr

where the neighbour's yard stands vanishing,
where I stare for some warm shape―

maybe it saw me kicking & humming
from its shadow draining of life,
& signals a bleary fear;

but I can see a child-demon
fighting with its shadow,
killing its last sleep.

the cataclysm of an animal
tearing flesh from the darkness chills me
& suddenly it groans

the coldest roar,
the black mew of a razor that cuts a panicky star.

wild I leave at a run that hunger
tearing up the night.

its final cradle
will be the street's glow.