Narcosia 3 for David Scurr
There is madness in method – horizon eyes –
No beauty under the sword.
Horizon eyes gaze
horizon eyes glazed
Upper ground on the underground – take the
cliche cliche cliche
morality plays- the concious says – say
nothing, something – point of view.
Is there method to this madness?
Hollow laughter from mary of the fourth floor.
Jeers, indignation. Echos of an obcessive affair
with the insane.
This ancient epic. Examined- re-examinned, upturned and
Nothing to see here.
Exploit the underground – rewrote the manifesto
upturned on a coffee stained napkin- formulate a new vision of
the body poetics, to make sence of the non-sense.
Sieze the sorrow filled eyes of Jack
to make a point
The view is obvious
The risk ran.
Ruined by the long running interview.
Embrace the smoke swirling
around your sholders
Oppportunity – the difficulty of knowing
or not; of the ethereal poetics of heavenly scribs lost
in purgatorial bliss to a Parker riff.
The method of the madness
of night in bars, lofts, cafes.
Writing above the din. Above the hollow shrieks and laughter
of the great mass’ gathered after service .
Worship the god of choice.
Word sketchs – of coffee –
sax and cigarettes.
Be bopping beats play
the meter – metronome click
Octogenarian Orpheaus. Laying
down lines of words ala coltrane run
run away from the cliche .
Or be run over .