STUDY FROM METAMORPHOSIS OF NARCISSUS

Marching, the tanned individuals keen
The hottest sand, the coolest waters blush
A pinkish sunlight, spitting pebbled path
Straight to the narrow: the melting pot, oh
We'll bathe in golden waters and coat arms
Faces, hands and torsos in the kind murk
The acidic fear of variables gone:
Neutered in a sexless, Godless one
Tell the man on the pedestal to leap
He'll find his feckless footing soon enough
It's a shame he'll consider these young men
Whilst pacing through peroxide and crushed glass


STATESMAN

They served a slab of mushroom in candlelit sauna
Something about how Turkish princes did it
Half expecting a robed villain to appear, I turned
The waxen flames layering waxen heat
And asked for a cigar, or a cigarette
Something about how German ministers behaved
And as I breathed in creamy hotness a friend notes
A thin curd wrapped round the end
Some smegmatic curl of meaning
Perhaps a bustling trading square for micromatter
I imagine vitreous forms kerning to a platform
Something about Medieval history
How do they execute bacteria?
My friend claimed for my attention to be drawn
For the once thin mess was now a foam
Which throbbed and maybe emitted a heat of its own
Making the process rather difficult
And although I could see no market square
Nor jazz club, court or school
I felt that I need not interfere
The thing would have eyes and nose soon enough
And soon enough it had grown too hot
And soon enough it spoke


COFFEE WITH THE REFEREE

Windowless hallway
Interior slatherer
Professional bellower
Caveless protégé

Leaping into arms or hammocks
Bosch'd whether the grass is above
Or below
Or on top

Waterfalls gasp and no one hears them
Tuscany creaks about the attic
Ostentatious wobbler

Pull a fingernail off and taffy pink blurts out
What did you expect?
Bumbles projectively
Like the girl in the room that smells of fresh paint

Pivot with plimsolls or sit down and watch
He'll spin ya like a wrinkled ballroom
A melting pirouette gurn
The starting pistol whines


HUBBARD'S FARCE

I: The Network Shivers

We've discovered life behind the doorframe!
Call the blokes in suits with their mobile telephones
Their tinted spectacles and boyband haircuts

The world is buzzing
This is a free time
Our lab is beautifully chirping
I imagine pushing the hair from your face
And taking you on a floppy drive waltz
Synthesised sonatas peppering the air
A flickering necklace hologram or ring
But first a word with buzzing

New age:
Chromic blocks
Glossy towers
Window GUIs
Bacon discs
World Vision
Command-line breeze

II: The Thing Itself

First frame: spider face
Unholy stretching
Now a brown rage
Lizard skin texture
There's eyes
Now they're here
It's looking right at you
It always has been
Since you walked in
There's no sound
You can't hear
An unimaginable furrowing
Your brain is ripping itself apart
It has to: things have changed
Permanent flight
Darwinian shutdown

There's a sphere of fire
There's a thousand knives
There's a raging loony
Right behind you

There's an acid cube
There's a salty mush
There's absolutely blood
In your head

Well the wall may as well be the floor
Or you're falling forever
The sink knows where you live
The shower sees what you do at night
The door handle has a tongue
And for the first time
It dirtily pokes it out

III: Sailing

Someone interviews someone else
Stuttering notes and inconceivable renderings
Line graphs galore, white coats and all
Somewhere this is happening

The world's turned white
We don't walk now we glide
We dream of dream ropes
We think of thought stacks

Everything must go in boxes
No really it has to exactly
We learned too much
We learned too little

In a countryside shack
The Father desperately searches
The horses won't die
The hay won't stop fizzing

A blade of real grass is actually her eyelash
What a dance round the barrel that would be
Slap a cowbell would you and gurn please
Someone gurn please


BIRDS

Ungraceful tones
A bitter humming
Hauntful quela
Glits queal
Gleaming still