Untitled

Scared heart
Sacred heart
Scorched



Landscape and box

I was walking on a track of mind, angry about a darkening white.
A rug crossed the sky and since then, never a cloud cried.
There is a mountain in my past.
As it stands there full of ice, juice is flowing from a pen, then I can see a desk
followed by me. Places are calling to be written.
I look outside the window:
Gordon is jogging around a tree.
Color green is creating an earthly story casting a new French Land with the Lord eating a nut on a bench or a nice chair.
At this point I couldn't afford the text; I was fragile and needed a rest.




Tufnell Park

Tufnell Park is stuck in fur
Even the Temple is sticky.
'Great!' says Archway
'no windows to trim'.

  

Difficult Weather 2008

 

Heavy rain

between you and I

water walls

splashes of cold air

 

Heavy rain

like in Poems for the Underground

the whole soil went dry

and tunnels opened to draw lines

This is how we meet

and how we part

 

Above us

flags are waving to indicate places

two dots and scattered

our houses are desert islands

storms and tornadoes might be coming

whilst we shape our present traveling