Darklands
what if she entered
the sliver of morning and haemorrhage
left for her
on the rooftop, signal
that someone was still coming in caustic shoes
theorising a free continuation
of handsome disorder, to access the paywall
and free us from pain
she could breathe here, just
to feel like getting trains, filming herself
speak only to speed
and lag
in practice of relative motion, to feel it
“how all the protests ceased”
but not to look
was to watch the hard tomatoes soften from green
and the weight
to glow awhile, orange
and I miss
a strategy of oratory whereby someone has a line
from beautiful afternoon television, like
“who would buy this house?”
as if there were choices
next to the undiscovered
shaven lawn
*
I’ve been having dreams about family
and scaffolds
how she just lay there
literally
until the child began throwing soft toys at her
in the 1990s
anyone could come to life and be numb
I want to read Graeber’s thesis on magic,
slavery and politics
she didn’t say to me
do you ever feel free, for instance
in fugue state when brushing your teeth
I’ve been dreaming about ancestors
stuck on trains
killing rabbits and eating crackers
it was that easy
all season
complaint of what’s coming, knowing nothing
of photography
when you can’t measure the wind
by the grass
she had this enormous laughter
*
dwindling into ambivalence
if this isn’t a dream exposure
and we can’t enter houses
I’ve been trialling sentences, Bernadette Mayer says
I’m not faulting being periodic but sentences with caps and end marks do seem so bloodless to me
You swing gazelle legs over the actual
You wait in the room for the wine
You pull collectives out of the sink
distracted, I watch through windows
turn on my flash
to lead workshops on trash
and poetry as finance, like
eons of speculation
had brought us to nothing but numbers
and the anxious among us, cooking the numbers
I watch her slice an avocado in the dark
and the police van
opened to reveal us
with leaves in our molars, perfect hello
it’s autumn
in the bloodless sentence
*
dreamt I was tidying the rooms
of siblings
this mad kind of everywhere acid
I couldn’t clean up
in the panic of rich, linguistic Monday, you are
part of the story, too smart for me
the interminable smell of pine resin, kimchi
and menthol gum
yes, just there
in lightness rimming
I made this commitment to sleeping ‘upstairs’
taking pleasure
on my editor’s credit
before the treehouse snapped
*
I can barely listen to music anymore
it’s all error
describing her pain as shooting
when I smashed my thumbs in my eyes
you kept going
it was Jupiter
now
cruising down Alexandra Parade to send you
the voice message
of not seeing nightingales, a bathtub
attached to a car
I wish I could touch
between times is when I most feel ‘we
exist’ and just like that
the cornflowers won’t die
and we can’t enter houses
and you end
with the fresh heat of illusory commute
I could say anything new
in dumb, erotic anonymity
where all this falls
*
she had lit up the sad remains
of the tree
bound to other seasons, even look good
despite not hearing this live
I like it, finally
summer light on the same
even if we live
in adrenalised versions of trying to keep warm
on the video call
or wavelength
of audit continuum
she was all
“it is up to the unassuming […]
to represent reality”
in The New York Times
and the well-oiled loss of taste
feels the same
the shadow
years of tax avoidance
edible sundown
*
what if she knew before all of us
doubled in running away with me
I dream all my friends
attending the burning
“where have you been”
and you could put this to archive
swipe left for the hidden
indentation of nothing happening
20,000 years ago
mostly I worry if she lived in the dream
I had to wake from
cradling the ersatz animal, sprigs of rosemary
having clambered reality over again
and knowing you survived the scaffold
GESTURES FOR LIVING AIR
as the art was told
“I just need to check
your temperature”
a rough kind of festival kiss
that was listening
in the underpasses of everything
prior to millennium
installs a magical feeling that
:heart:
you would be at the station
and my bouquet emoji of blood
flowers await.
💐
Fenne Lily – Solipsism
Sylvan Esso – Ring
Gus Dapperton – I’m Just Snacking
Sufjan Stevens – Run Away With Me
Fleet Foxes – I’m Not My Season
Chastity Belt – Ann’s Jam
The Durutti Column – Sketch for Summer
Frog – Photograph
Adrienne Lenker – anything
Tim Heidecker, Weyes Blood – Oh How We Drift Away
Bill Callahan – Sycamore
Gillian Welch – Picasso
Margo Guryan – Why Do I Cry
Norma Tanega – You’re Dead
Elliott Smith – Speed Trials
Kath Bloom, Loren Connors – Tall Grass
The Jesus and Mary Chain – Darklands
Alice Boman – Heartbeat
Edwin Organ – Self Alarm
Broadcast – Echo’s Answer
Cocteau Twins – Aloysius
Yo La Tengo – Bleeding
Perfume Genius – Valley
William Basinski – Tear Vial
Oneohtrix Point Never – Long Road Home
mariaology 