mirror poem

carrier signal

/c!ick

   as
   this  logos
   only goes one way
   thru the diode of the brain

   the mechanics of an unbending mind -- to become

   time fouled shoals of thought
   pockmarked excreta to be
   picked apart
   at sea

beside   

a warm bum   

on a black obelisk   

the coursing round of seaweed and dry planks - undone   

back on the beach   

oill's well in   

N.S.W.   

   it
   init.
   like a plane
   or an antenna on a

   pilot in the cockpit looks at his watch - 11 o'clock

   plane locked into a
   deep descent
   down
   to

init   

as a stylus   

plucks a vinyl   

groove wave reanimate   

the song which must be heard once more   

a long dead sigh   

at the end   

biting   

dust   

   hat
   t-woo
   a watermark
   left on the high

   tar stained planks and curlicue shells grasping - only

   tide stretched planks
   water board a
   walk of
   evil

hit   

it so   

he makes   

a noise like that   

the low swivel squeal of a narwhal - again   

sidling through oceans'   

salt heavy   

waves   

art   

   the
   gusty sea
   the gutsy sea
   overcurling & uncoiling

   girt by purple hued foam fingers - flotsam

   articulate and inarticulate
   taxa are by definition
   orders

so   

also the   

rubber mould   

of a comforting glove   

the inside and outside are the same - pain   

becomes pleasure but   

it is defined   

the same   

   the sun
   also..

/c!lick


CONTACT WAS LOST WITH THE PILOT FOLLOWING AN ELECTRICAL MALFUNCTION IN THE ONBOARD COMMUNICATIONS...THREE HOLES WERE FOUND DRILLED IN THE FUSELAGE...SUGGESTS THE PLANE CRASHED INTO THE SEA NEAR BYRON BAY AT APPROXIMATELY 11.20AM... A SMALL OIL SLICK WAS OBSERVED IN THE REGION... IT IS BELIEVED THE PILOT WAS LOW ON OXYGEN... B.P.125/96 H.R 160.. ANALYSIS OF THE BLACK BOX RECORDING INDICATES THE DECEASED WAS SINGING AT TIME OF DEATH...

lophophore

Overwhelmingly numb sensation kuje soeekwakjubg tjroug wire frame, needles
Sparks falling out of broken ceilings
Abrupt displacia
Lost sense of poetry
Gluemoan home
Strange itches
loudness
inarticulata
argon gorgon
lophophore
a little
bivalve
in myonia

the idea
encapsulated
in a mussel shell
is the ideal Form:
'i am safe inside' with the whole  macabre of  emotion
            realised in evolution

i wonder wherelse it surfaces
maybe in some rimpool at
the end of the surf shop -- roman scutum -- la almeja pequena -- or a pippa somewhere..