Second Seven Sevens (2008)

(following on from the First Seven Sevens)


#7

Numberless hells
recently reopened.
These under lands, the vast
three-way streets
withholding orphan data,
brains meshed in wire.
This is not 2009.


#11

‘To love your mother
tongue is to love all mother tongues.’
Today,
what language contorts to depict.
Mangled jokes & mating calls.
Silence is a rhythm too,
resists being thought.


‘To love your own mother tongue is to love all mother tongues’ – Anjan Sen


#12

come on now, talk
about your family: sister’s cursed
before all coordinates
have even been sown down

every man father
every woman mother

No, screw you, Oedipus.


‘come on now, tell me about your family, your sister’s cursed...’ = Pavement, ‘Silence Kit’


#13

facile curious
he had all ports open,
a bloodless coup.
tomorrow sees him
flesh-mining for
extremer, extremer.
(words wilt/fail).


#14

They mistake words for things.
Won’t say ‘I’ any more –
how could you?
An artist wants a world
different from how she finds it.
Those who profit by their careful errors.
An exhibition of picture frames.


#15

this is our address:
morning fed on a seemingly low subject:
“Drink me,” male voice requests
– static dream moment –

the nauseating businesslike tones
employed to recruit her
have slid through my mind.


#16

targets, alphabets, numerals & flags
the presentation so literal
flat & given.

searchlights skyward!

morse flashes & flares
hastily deployed.

the winking light that terminates.


Below: 'Seven sevens' by bricolage.108