Archive for November, 2009
misreadings
Nov 29th
doodles, scribbles and misreadings are like ghosts
‘Yes, there are only ever misreadings, of course; but mine is the correct one…’
Donald Paterson, The Book of Shadows
COPS RELEASE TIGER –
911 CALL at the end.
Brightened my commute to London.
BROWN SHUFFLES HIS CABARET.
Suppose our misreadings are something else?
Paris in the
the spring
Tiny foreign bodies flying past a lense unnoticed
beast
bicicletta-felicità; felicità
amiable beast profound and literary
dressed in english cotton
despite its its years
does not feel guided by literary texture
but by machine-readable form
An old poem from a year ago
Nov 22nd
No cream
the scene is a slow beat
my fingers a dull grey –
a cigarette sits between them
and the kettle is volcanic.
No cream.
Day time is short and the anxious crowd
grows sharp as the phone
is mute as the sky
shrinks
into the silt
into waters they’ll never feel
