SO

ASSERTION OF FACTS: No need to flinch against self-warning; I see from my window cracked paving stones, dead seal washed up with driftwood and plastic. THEN: Blood makes its first appearance on bloodstained trousers - stained from the inside. Life without lampshades is some sort of squalor - never dismiss paraphernalia like glinting metal sharpened with precision. AND I AM NOW Lying on uneven rock, risk of fall from waterlogged clifftop field well away from the town. I follow the coastal path by fields and bays to rocky isolation with a volcanic formation STATEMENT OF FAITH: This is creation Not a negation DERIVED SUBTEXT: I suffer from filthy windows and bloodstained trousers, clouds moving over railways rain on the tracks sharp metal in darkness cannot glint without sun. I carve parallel lines with no vanishing point into skin I thought was pure. RE-ASSERTION Cover the blankness with beautiful words that we know to be lies. Because thought is not controllable waiting at railway stations in the rain is a bleak business, There are scabs on my legs And blood which, though distressing, I enjoy. Never going to achieve anything But fuck it, I can try.