26 October 2007

Dream

Policemen run past me
to sloping riverbed.
A man has lost his mooring -
a stretcher slipping into speed,
a car with brake failure.

'The thing is, this is someone's life' -
the water inpenetrable.

I should / could jump in
but my clothes ...

-

In a queue I surface beside Barney / Bartie (?)
'Hey Mab,' 'Thought I'd repeat last week.'
He shakes his head. I reach for a bottle
of silver liquid - beer? Have no card
to swipe through.

-

Matt's concern prior to a lesson in a hall.

16 October 2007

Dream


D. rips board in two. Attacks Mike.
Jon: It's a shame. The first thing we always do is play that game, (shades of Sarah).
Upstairs I pack all my things. Amanda is there. I put a blade beside me.
Text message.

Dream II

Rosy visits. In the field, I put my arm around her waist as Carrie, her face cast in unhappy waking, walks through the garden and up the field. Rosy is telling me how she almost said she didn't want to break up.

Did something break?

At top of field, holding both their hands, an osprey (?) appears before us; then a strange boar's nose / tubefish climb over me. It snaffles my face. 'That is rare,' Rosy says of the second.

The Fall's anniversary. Small club, low stage. They have made the effort. Mark even straps on a bass and plays as he sings.
Post on table - all non-personal, CD singles out of boxes. No handwritten card. A voice says 'No one's even come,' loudly. Mark Riley? MES is backstage.
I gather the CDs and hand them to a guy I initially think is in the band, later realise is from the fan club. 'Ask these guys for my number,' I tell him. 'This guy?' he asks a soundman / venue worker. He shakes his head. 'I mean the band,' I say.

My dad is on a slope, below a tower. He appraises the Rosy / Suki situation thus: You have to treat them with respect. He dismisses the fact that they both held my hands at the same time.

15 October 2007

'The Lengths' accepted by Smiths Knoll.


The disengaged red-haired girl Alice : 'I like: techno.'


A year ago at the fireworks.
Someone shouts:"Are you making her laugh?'


Making for Stramberk, a fairytale village - of wooden houses, pinesmoke and a single hilltop tower.

A couple took us to the road I wanted.

We walked, their white fighting-dog Alba destroying every plastic bottle in sight, rushing past our trouser legs, scouring the plain, weighing the children flying kites. Two long kilometres.

Strong and creamy beer cheese.

Ollamouc. A sleazy hotel like a 1970s film. Lights that hung low and glowed lemon. Edward Hopper / The Shining. A Neptune platter.

Novy Jicin The perfect bus - Polish films on TV sets with earphones, tea and coffee on request; Czech mountains out the window like in The Little Prince.

12 October 2007

Dream

She dons an eyemask
above a closely cropped salt-and-pepper moustache and goatee.

'Can you see my shadow?'
she asks, after dusting.

My father and Alan Gardner, both with 'Sparks' moustaches, in a big car.
I turn to the seat behind me, gauge my brother's face.
Does he know what this means?

On the back of a white car, a boy.
In the house, a wail. I pass a doorframe and see,
not swinging, a body above a blood stain.

The problem I have is the speakers outside my door.
A gypsyish, hippy store. Small rounded speakers.
I meet the girl / owner and it's not so loud.
Then we go down a floor.

I want to go out but as we zip up our windcheaters
Joe appears too, zipping up. I lag behind and stay put.

11 October 2007

John Berryman


excerpt from The Statue

If they glance up, they glance in passing,
An idle outcome of that pacing
That never stops, and proves them animal,
These thighs breasts pointed eyes are not their choosing,
But blind insignia by which are known
Season, excitement, loosed upon this city.


The Song of the Tortured Girl


After a little I could not have told -
But no one asked me this - why I was there.
I asked. The ceiling of that place was high
And there were sudden noises, which I made.
I must have stayed there a long time today:
My cup of soup was gone when they brought me back.

Often 'Nothing worse can come to us'
I thought, the winter the young men stayed away,
My uncle died and mother cracked her crutch.
And then the strange room where the brightest light
Does not shine on the strange men: shines on me.
I feel them stretch my youth and throw a switch.

Through leafless branches the sweet wind blows
Making a mild sound, softer than a moan;
High in a pass once where we put our tent,
Minutes I lay awake to hear my joy.
- I no longer remember what they want. -
Minutes I lay awake to hear my joy.

04 October 2007

Dream

Passing a wall hung with hooks,
collanders, rounded metal spoons
blunt like syringes.
'George' and 'Night Walk' accepted by Seam
Nightmare 18/9/7

In a rush, pursued by woman. Wake up panting.

Dream

Richard gathers blue shaded things - a dye-haired Barbie, shard of glass.