room four (gagg and bad)

gagg

in dark retreat

my eyes gaggle

on the skygrey

i come

swinging

into nothing

bad

white pierced

light and sound

compressed

fromunder 

and allaround

room 3 (interest)

 ~

! in golden light ambiguous

bleeding my patience

next to interesting cloud friends

(leeches)

observing tacit

the noontide reassemblance

of non-creature shapes

and the shore groping: ultimate and futile

, the non-electrocution of short-circuits

a humming negative actually visible

in the salty beach-air

room 2 (practical)

practical room

I

I am imagining a practical room. Everything about this room exudes practicality. It is what you expect,

Not filled with many unpractical things like the rooms of my past.

II

I have organized this room according to a universal stacking mechanism. All things are mostly stacked.

The bed is stacked upon the floors, rectangularly, I am stacked upon the bed, squarely,

Triangulating precarious risk opportunities, with this universal stacking.

III

I am organizing transatlantic communiques into new folders

I am putting the different parts of my room into new folders

When I wake up I can reassemble them I can reassemble them

I don’t just wanna sit around

I don’t just wanna sit around in my own filth

I wanna be clean I wanna be clean yes

I wanna be hairless smooth moving soundless smoothly

Smoothly moving movie smoothly smoothing

I see on my phone that people are stealing dogs

I see on my phone that people are stealing dogs

I feel compulsion, I feel compulsion

Repulsion, propulsion, propellant missile

Newest technology, greater and more moral

More morsels for you because of it

Yes more morsels open wide yes

Open wide I am dropping a missile into it

Into your mouth into your line your line

Your line of defense I am sanding this missile

It will be perfect and unblemished

I am sanding the finish from this fine missile

I am sanding the strange things that were written on it by strange hands

I am sanding off the gelatins of history, sanding them sanding them

I am sanding them moving my hand in a sanding gesture

A sanding gesture masturbatory gesture compulsive gesture working gesture

Vile and obscene gesture unknown gesture unknown symbol let-loose in the backyard

Reprimand me tomorrow it will hurt more

I will have been hurt by the dream I had last night

Hurt by my violent dream life hurt by my ears ringing

I am hurt by the fact

I am hurt by the fact that I can breathe that I can breathe

Softly breathlessly copulating copulating

Moonlight godlessness blaspheme

I am hurt by this and more

Hurt by things which never hurt anyone before

Hurt by spiral trials by trials spiraling spiral trialling

Hurt by insides and outside and groups most of all

And directions and classifications and names and faces

And remembering and remembering

And the primal desire to reach out and touch

And the primal desire to reach out and hold on to and touch again this time gently

The desire to kill one’s self, which I cannot say I possess, I do not know

I am drifting, I am lost, something along these lines

Something along these lines, drifting lost

These lines cadaverous

Running lightly and energetically
Reanimated every moment yes every moment

I am friends with the technician

I am friends with him, the electrocuted technician

He did things well he died well

He surged up with everything else and he died well

Black lines, hanging lines, hanging from rotting wood

Sharp to the child running his fingers across it, splinter-fest

Splintering all across the county the county lines we call them

Our new borders our encaustic new borders

I am being waxed

covered in wax hot wax

Waxing the whole room

The whole room being waxed

The waxer the waxer oh how terrible

Oh how terrible am I being waxed

Being lit now oh how warm oh how the fire oh oh oh

Oh how the fire comes drips down through my wax it melts oh oh

Oh it melts oh oh oh oh how pleasurable how much pleasure will burn oh oh

A wick now

A pleasureless wick

But still alive, still alive

And I have seen things now

room 1 (grid)

a grid

a grid

is

a criss-crossing

alliance

sliding

like superstition

down ladder rungs

a grid

is

a new resonance

hovering over

a ruined cloister

cat field

wraithlike

scurrying

fuzzing laterals

and blind-spots

leaf looking

hedge merging head

grazing on

one trillion brain-mice