Rampage: sick bags on past oblivions |
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Welsh |
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| Internal combustion engine, mine cut w/ petrol herring sweat, time & stomach cramp – mind games. |
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| Dry shag baby turning life w/ chemical racks of beast flog cabbage trading – pain & suffering. |
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| UFO hovers over apeman ridge. Try to grab hold. Is it a bird/ a plane? – Her image. |
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| Pleasure scene: sweet sallow massage/ teardrop union stakes @ the hipbeat orgy . . . – Her scene. |
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or: |
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| Bad vibes in the human head/ God! – grow bitter – fossil feel running out. |
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Brute
jungle urge rust chemical intrigue brute/ slash primitive. Or pointless gossip as the past dream festers. |
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X–X
SLOW CONCEALED CHILDREN X–X |
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Infant
fear instinct dying embers . . . I CAN’T SEE THE WOOD FOR THE TREES – that’s all. |
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X–X
SLOW CHILDREN CROSSING X–X |
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Black
blows of death in shroud déjà vu disco Hitler in shorts w/ whore & fag – grim creeper. A wreath & sick |
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| grave pictures on The Wall . . . – CIA gets serious w/ subtle concentration clamps/ “it’s a conspiracy” maze too much/ CORRIDOR 101/ “they’ve got me” – The End, etc . . . |
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Only
joking! crack up – addict pestilence/ sicklike dinner/ kick me to a tree/ manic survivalist/ manic pestilential addict dinner/ |
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WOULD
THE CONDEMNED STOP JOKING?? |
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| – CAUGHT-22 – hot neck tongs w/ silent scream and aroma – Earth standing stone – and wooden stake – – I am stabbed. |
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Nail
sense in! discharge static! shock plots untangle/ the chain rattle. Get soaked w/ rain. |
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– Peace
on Earth. Root spirit/ grow sharp |
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| green claws thru earth’s strong up-rooted curtain. |
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GRIN
TIME IS NOW
This year’s leaves I will write on the burning sky. The wind blows it together. X – X Wales & Brighton, autumn 1989 |
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