The collaborational piece between Mali and I for Camaradefest II…
Impressions: a wet-cowboy
fresh off the 149 bus,
God bless you Dear Beloved,
the creases on a pigs ear; combining pink
pink and branded,
underlined by a white roll
as our feet and metres stop their firm bisecting.
Still seeing tribal idiograms in great diagonals
for the impression existed far before us
Danny dilutes into the office,
a drape still across the window
and gravity is scattered all over the hallway and bannisters -
Be-bop-a-lu-la Mrs. Pearson
compliments of the day to you
and all that Russian jazz
marking rectangles pale and darker.
He picks a path
between paper interruptions;
punch chunks of Shakespeare.
Punch chunks of Shakespeare
upon the backs of the women
as polygons set red with light and the sex.
IDS tongues the gravy;
mouth plus food
incarnadine or rectory
Amongst open-lid photocopies,
a small page of text underlined;
thin serifs point Danny’s eyes left to right;
three flat-bottomed domes
and a vulva beside
tripping over dark punctuation,
circles and diagonals and triangles
rise from the surface,
clench-ripple muscles around the shaft to reach the church
he notices the answerphone blinking
lonely green lights.
His forefinger indexes play
as a corner of fallen bedding
lies half-covering a small page
we didn’t appreciate your not cleaning
any of the kitchen cupboards
or removing the pistachio shells
from down the back of the sofa.
We didn’t appreciate your sigh in the strip,
turning pages quickly into overlaps
puts us to shame
above the order of the floorboards in the downstairs back room.
There was no loo roll (you promised you’d leave some) either.
In the toilet zone
Danny reads old co-ordinates;
the strip-light flashes,
more definitely toned
in awareness of market value,
adrenaline unloads down neural pathways
making his portfolio zing
and the compliments of the day
I will have 30% of the money
You will have 40% of the money
lying stretched radially and odd.
Don’t try asserting the remuneration
The two of us have 58% of the entire money
Your money today or work?
He flicks GOD HELP US onto the wall,
in header bold.
Render you 50 for a hundred
then adds (she’s my bank, she’s my bailiff).
A pulse in his neck
trembles like a small bird (a hot thrush).
With chlorine tang
Danny wishes he could fly
through stars into West Africa
with the Director of Customer Services.
And the noise of copper dull
Troy, who believed in the noise of dull copper,
the flushing shuffle of paper,
replaces posters of popstars on the walls,
Alphabets formed across modernist-looking fauna and Gods,
Danny remembers his Aunt Dolly;
she believed in the dignity of her front doorstep
and her worst fear; led by fingers
and the blank bottoms of pages:
a modernist-looking building
with a slightly nautical design.
He leaves the office,
click here to run fingers red into angles,
soft hued and edgeless,
spine to side
resolving to bench press his hair
and chew his gums raw.
Ongoing guerrilla conditions apply.
Breathe in morning
bench press chest hair.
Mali Clements and Paul Hawkins (Oct. 2014)