In Uncategorized on June 12, 2012 at 7:00 pm



on the back telegraph pole slow

underneath the pylon truth

green tallow fly taking back tree

fell off field now & cycle pump

separating ice combined lapse

rib my metal roof last week behind ear

currency years at combined IQ of marble

if this were the final emergency exit window

it was undercranked fire extinguish home

slipped through as snow train coming


a grey lake break blue x carriage

I want you for my wake graffiti

persons cannot touch gas tower burns distance

pack it up pack it in so signal same again

one continuous fuck boils in milk then

“HOLD” MAKE “HOLD” hanging garment sky

always must’ve been within outdoor of us

reservoir writ large unended pattern time

depth to the neck terminating at Doncaster

double A double B double C & as water circles


I turned a sheep the Celsius tips return

one delta zero nine floating nipple sun

why don’t you just concrete it mixes

and it will be if breathing ‘fuck’

black bale snow pail now approaching Newark

bring me my jacket gum under the table

you got rubble trouble the shellsuit rips

the allotment changes hands pushchair farm/tyres

disposable/ disponible down with the sisters

a sheep turned like receiving a body



you just have to be telegraph enzyme patrol

brassic canal side cooked swan on water

monstrosity oeuf lumpy protest batter

feels hard today windfarm heart glue

a round house on glass wing decisions

with all windows a net cast dyes the world

and bricks in a V pylon song to the sea

and a dead lion tree volting foam axes

disbanded moss electric water face

come track come site & units to let


night is sighing 5 past your face

we want you to enjoy generator room blues

superbly stoned abandoned works are steal

your back street brisket is powered by dead skin

cupping the rose miles are equal to loss

there is a way to then wind yr own road

standing to the wind our morning ritual

this hay is fake I cannot tell from birds

some brown is wicked so often across fields

others just nib my hand on the fence


just like everything else into the sound place

held dapper gallery through chemical phone

your eyes are the eggs matches into my stricken

the untold version so open the magpies chest

land internal so a horse meat breath

lichen this to burnt circle landing

we are going home no wood becomes forest

12 deers & lighthouse liquid nose for glass

cannot deroof England then exit the window

imperial finish the bridge where they grow




hold on window perfect salmon face

the bush is spared a rose window does it

mass joke archive how erased villains warn

curtailed torso thrust a baptist shoe

your words hundred now a pillow wink inky

you can help by balance with kite

big hand old placid white spruce madras

I curtain blossom it itch gallic tincture

so that wood entrails because I can’t look

cornerstone led in love though lipsed with salt


constance is a hierarchy doused spider hour

under your slipping bag notching the paper cast

summertime awkwardly it is not Mars

with the peacocks all maybe thirsty for tit

you suggest like scarab or in tunnel cut

seven three seven two were not we breathing

sickly is tungsten is way outs arrow undressed

the hard flinched public for it divides en route

push apart to open pen ultimate in pencil

the first to be pressed to lock saw town


sorry about the table silicone distortion organ

you have your self puddled for what end ear or sink

moon closer than mocha to shortly arrive in Headcorn

so if a skull softens after all gears labelled

a handle is a handle even Frascati madam

perforated in blightly link without crown

I’d like to burn carpets are blister trains

bucket sand at your peril lumpy fact to work

red worms and reed worms that gone wither

capsize if it fits it to break then jump



More work by Lucy Harvest Clarke here and Stephen Emmerson here.



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