Monday 10 March 2014

WRITE A POEM HE SAID



write a poem he said

wot now ? i said

yes now he said with words from this instant ether

ok i said and wrote 

coffee ring table
holds
cheap electric eye
and
a
black
board of burst words
and
my
struggle hands
hungry for rest but hungry for something else too
light with exhaustion
empty
like
balloons
they
tap
out
surroundings/room buzz/cold feet
and
the still-world painting on the window glass
thats
split
sometimes
with children and a cat and the blur of vans
and
the silence in here
is
desperate for a song
and 
everything 
will
wait

ok he said you did it

i did i said but it needs work

it does he said but thats ok

throw up into the typer at at dawn ? i said

and clean up at noon . . .




the classic typewriter page

1 comment:

  1. 'throw up in your typewriter at dawn and clean up at noon' paraphrased from Ray Bradbury's Death Is A Lonely Business

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