Friday 19 March 2010

Fur Elise - Les Tourtre

I'm sitting on my bed with my laptop on my lap, not feeling the radiated warmth because the window is open and I'm bare-footed. My stomach feels heavy from the pill I took a while ago, I think I'm anemic and de-hydrated. I should cut down on the caffine. I'm listening to Vanilla Fudge, I love the psychadelic rock music - as well as loving most types of music. I feel a bit sick. I'll be out tonight to see a band called Dirty Tricks, the guitarist is my friends' brother, and I suppose I'll end up really drunk again. Fur Elise has come on. Vanilla Fudge's take on Beethoven. I went last week and I was so out of it, I used the girls toilets and got lost and got my friends drink order wrong twice. It was funny though.

Sunshine of your Love comes on, I think it's Cream but my laptop says it's still Vanilla Fudge. Doesn't sound like a cover. I'm writing a story called The pigeons (Les Tourtre), which I'm going to submit to uni next week to be workshopped. Don't know how they'll take it. It has a French character. I might post it on here soon.

I think it is VF doing a cover of Cream. I put my glasses on, I'm supposed to wear them for reading but I never do. I've started wearing my glasses to read Ulysses. It's killing me. I love it, though. I'm still feelin a bit sick, but I'm hungry too. I don't eat very well, must be why I get like this. I wrote a poem in about a minute. It'sm rubbish, but it's something. Inspired by what I can remember from Ted Berrigan.


Waited 3 days
Took a pill
Caffine ran thru me
Spirit of things
Ran thru me;
Next day
Feelin' sick,
Eats sugar and
Drinks coffee,
Takes no more pills -
Nighttime,
I see into future,
I am either drunk
Or writing poems.

Sunday 7 March 2010

Untitled Poem 7/3/10

You, little shadow, over there
In the jungle you pray you are asleep,
Unnatural as a crucifix,
The marriage of saying 'Yes'
Over and over again;
Gliding with ancient clarity
Reveals us Severin infuriated!
The most public face over
Other faces facing;
Phlegm of voice spat
And continues to reveal –
I proceed to be a novice,
Aiming little shadow at the breakfast table;
Severin below her (the most purist
Leader of Maidens), wants her dead –
But bound and gagged – O, enemy!
Softly, in the dusk, I do not hear,
Softly, in the dusk, a woman ...