Give Yourself Up

1 May 2012

(poem ending on Newtown graffiti)

If I do not join       clouds       my attempts
of song hit       the roof       line without wings
my effort but       she’s crying       conversation
leaks damage       & not alone I swig orange       sun ahead of
rain it figures       your life planes cuts       across trails
spans aerials       I am less arrival than       anxiety in a breath
causation       would be a       good thing
if I could       make it       happen light it
up my hand       breathe smoke back       its direction
I could discuss theme tunes       to my beating       hands on skin
day or being       of itself       flashed on lines
away from my city vertigo       & self-regard       what’s the point of
sadness among tax cuts       fine tasting licks       the behind trade
mustering its dirty love       a steep roof       leans on night
dusk drift & haloes       lane smells of a toilet       slow brakes
sex jolt joy       armsful of pain       I was excuses tipping
arguments onto       tongue       kisses complaint
give myself up       actions loudest       when softest walls
rung out       their papers dry       blind transparent pushed
‘smell like Blood       Bones &       Diamonds’

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