Tag Archives: remote
cumbria caravan , eastern view
Chris Lawrence Phoneography
4:30am
spelltime hour of silence
light defaces the sky
and sun confronts glass,
i am a discordant instrument
out of tune,
field and track make profiles
in the light,
rabbit flashes white tail
crows beckon with raw calls,
everyone is sleeping,
alone without cellphone coverage
or far reaching internet,
my problems an essential alphabet
to be categorized and processed
without many answers,
flushed with a sense of panic
brighter light folds about me,
besides dad gone since january
people move about my head
reaching for my attention
often stumbling,
sipping coffee
i asked them to be patient
my service was slow
attention would come
from the sleep abandoned
most awake now,
allowing the light to reach my retina
but there it stopped,
inside was still a bleak landscape
of whatever,
and i had not cleaned it up yet
As the Infinite Monkey
alarm clock sounded
his/
fingers reached the ultimatum
her/
wrist strapped to bedpost
silk wounds of a conquered queen
last breath of air
from now closed window
his/
typewriter needed to speak
feel fingerpad clatter,
not betrayed with her
blank page,
paper pressed his own
rolled into machine,
carbon in place,
smudges
he left as memories
on her breast
typing/
words in a clatter
his way of expressing
now what was on pages
before
black shine reflected
an eager face
cool metal sat in case
he/
extracted thought
twisted them through cerebral tubes
squeezed out of fingers
smearing machine
black gloss dulled
worn/
beaten by him
the other stirred
moving sheets
foot , ankle , white angular
showed
if a crow called she would not
hear
ink to letters
passed to page again and again
yearning to create
with a companion
he/
knew
as fifth page done,
close to exhaustion
passion being spent
on this machine,
ribbon stretched
key frottage
rubbing,
thumping,
pounding,
word penetration
lasting imprints,
more lasting than
her
velvetmedia 