Monday 2 March 2009

Go Fly Your Kites 1st Draft

Go fly your kites
go fly your kites
and stay the fuck out of my way

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
and exhale the morning dew

Go fly your kites
go fly your kites
your mouth is a mass of wisdom teeth and kind words

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
kiss with courage ‘neath pier lights

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
great heavens above open and all

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
let girth not sorrow govern your day

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
this lame wind bent back grasses
tall about our waists

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
open up this grand white eloquent house
trim away the bed sheets
make linen silhouettes

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
rapturous the cries of the boys in blue

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
in the cathedral grounds a twilight
becomes ghost



go fly your kites
go fly your kites
so that one time we settled for supper right?

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
get breath caught in the zipper of your coat

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
let the announcement of the trumpet be your first port of call

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
rapturous calls from the boys in blue

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
dazed cant speak so left it at that my love

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
you in the moses basket should be out flying your kite

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
see serenity and peace well that’s for suckers

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
holy are you. holy are you. there is no god but you.

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
spiralled thread round babel and card prayers stuck on each one

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
thankyou for the wishes I kept each one safe

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
having enough you sat on the steps and wept



go fly your kites
go fly your kites
ach my hips aching I say so long

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
g’bye Kate the first time I saw your handprint was on Hannah’s wall

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
cut cute swathes from your notes im bored with it

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
plastered cracks and foundation humming with a newer song for you

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
contrite we living through fragments

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
breath will keep them afloat

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
it’s the mainsail of a Mozambique airship

go fly your kites
go fly your kites
for once the radios off and you are a t home

Museum- 2nd Draft

The museum is open from 9 till 5
the museum is five stories high
the museum is set across ten greedy acres of land
the museum is warm in the summer yet cool in the winter
the museum is awash with school parties and elderly couples
the museum is praised and denounced as an example of form over content
the museum is occasionally shut for public holidays
the museum is arguably the only of it’s kind
the museum is dusty
the museum is the place where visitors are encouraged to leave items of personal importance behind
the museum is the place where you are encouraged not only to touch but to openly molest as well
the museum is the place where my tooth fell into a porcelain sink and you applauded
the museum is insisting that it is not a museum but a Waitrose in Aldershot
Despite protests we still take photos
the museum is burnt hair and copper wire in a wax casing
the museum is where padding softly you my love are left feeling ashen and fatigued
the museum is where I argued and not having heard any better answers burst into tears
the museum is a rung bell and half-hour tours
the museum is the place where we can confine our ambition and enthusasim
the museum is available for all your needs be they spiritual or physical
and please do not forget to visit the gift shop on the way out
the museum is tormenting the old and omitting the young
the museum is not the problem you are
the museum is not knowing about art its knowing what you like
the museum is trying to do its best please be patient
the museum is the open flat palm of a stranger struck across your cheek
the museum is the open flat palm of a lover struck across your behind
the museum is recording itself for posterity
the museum is making no excuses you are old enough to think for yourselves
the museum is the crowning achievement of curators worldwide
the museum is the first thing to be forgotten in a fire
the museum is where my sister frowning faces a blank canvas
the museum is gutteral shoving and angry feet
the museum is covering your tounge with ash
the museum is a bloodied jaw and a black eye
the museum is being burnt down by angry spectators

Attributed to John Cage

"In Zen, it is said, if something is boring after two minutes, try it for four. If still boring, then eight. Then sixteen. Then thirty-two. Eventually one discovers that it is not boring at all."

John Cage