Thursday, November 20, 2014

poem || Lawrence Upton

he art


so loud full up
so near to loss
courteous hissing
(to whom? at whom?)
bile and cud emitted then
distilled with shivering he art

strained at ankles
      shrugging in gangs
                                             some not touched
   the goods of war                                     
                                           but not getting hold
chewing   and coughing deeply

smell them at night
                          being men
swivelling      slung over a wide field of cement
plastic    macintosh
      macerating  offences
      of both parties
      with useless touching
brushing crazy  brusquely
      looking  for  strong drink
      coughing deeply
choosing any

throw out the weighted 
ropes catching on no thing

lorry-full sneeze
retching away from nativity
weakness of the sty
                               the sky
giddy   we two divided
becoming fish in a milky zoo
small things visible to the naked eye

we unload with a cough of sputum
stealthily making off
the spade that dug a grave
contracting the sentence
jumping on to a little boat

”oh have you built your ship of death?”

the suicidal one says "no"

o island      o ilex
     let me move
to zoo my understanding

I own a selection of colours

I have a range of friends

I share such means
whips them with a thin piece of birch
the apple  ferment: systole,
systole -- it bursts or rots

cheap film
edge horizon
minimum colour minus a few bits
modifies my odour
in the advertisement
the scenic rhythm
questioning the speed
      attacked by flies

a struggle  cawing
so be it
  said in the face of the ruler
  star-systemed with a  belly that would burst
        open into pieces

hitting you accused you
zeal and no food
brightness and tending nightly
walking a simple cough
by the military verve
sigh   say the   city
cow stasis
killing them   is moving
them            unpatterned
powerfully deify the view      the substance
a minimum somatic clothing

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