Publication in the Age of Negation part 4
Emptyscapes: Art Show
Land of Disenchantment
Rediscovering the pleasures of ‘Trona’:
http://artillerymag.com/tottenham-corner-land-of-disenchantment/
Gen F
CXIII
There’s no point forcing it.
I’ve been forcing it for long enough:
going through the motions, motionlessly,
directionlessly, pleasurelessly. Attempting
is no longer tempting. Other than to furnish myself
with further proof of incapacity, there doesn’t seem
to be much point in trying anymore.
Maybe I can give up after all.
I should never have doubted my ability
in that area.
Love Story
I cannot locate the source of the disturbance
that has blossomed between us.
It seems, possibly, real… untranslatable.
At best it can be mumbled incoherently,
requiring a different language:
one that you can only feel.
And a different form of currency,
in which I lack sufficient means.
Nevertheless, a situation has arisen
that demands my complete attention:
You persevered beyond the numbness,
even after your jaw cramped, to induce
a state of constant sickly anticipation
of something sweet: an impatience to wallow again
in a mutually tacit sense of wonder, to swoon
into a different kind of loneliness,
from which I restlessly await recovery
and the long snarled return to a serene apathy.
HAPPINESS AND BEAUTY
Seriously
Inappetence
Queasiness, apathy and doom
spread over the sweetness… fear
of the stagnation and sorrow
that will have to seep out, fresh
from the source, all that death,
dirt and hurt: better for it to be absorbed
than apprehended, but who could withstand
such a force? A rallying call to weakness,
better leave it hanging. But dread is soon replaced
by regret, indifference by longing.