–|||| ~—> { just } – { working } — – °.°.° — { thru}} ~—>

( for throwing off the hump )

 

—]             –*–* (– \\   {° – ° } —

they say a hand extended

’s the size of your noggin don’t

you love perfection early

learning moving in for the kill

you pick up more than that

in the school yard

but nothing’s harder

than that smack in the face

your fall for graceful maths

 

—} \\    ~ ~   ‘`=-   –* *–>

looking at these hands going lost in their haunted

task am I so nostalgic for this? her silhouette

mooning thru the bustle? the greek vase i ode on

stolen from the archives – i think about [ time is a

flat circle & love, boredom, is a perfect clay spun

pot ] the eternal return / eclipse of the heart

‘we’re living in a powder keg & giving off sparks’

as harried objets d’art play beyond the camera-

as-a-cuddling-device to prop up these great

hands kicking into the future sans guarantee

light falls right out like a memo on a cheap bottle

of blanc de blanc   popping &   i   can’t   read

between     these    fast     lines

 

—°;-°– #– ~⌃–⌃ϖ–—…,     + —>

^   °°– >0 )       – — ~>     |           ~,

mikaela’s apron was tight & her

cap tilted as she blustered thru

her shift, like a metronome

found me & george cheap

vodka & we took it to the

countryside, visiting a friend

over the weekend / work’s not

always money & today just

gathers unholy speed,

irrelevance in our dreams the

poetical fast food tosses off

 

~ {   Ξ =- * — ’’ -> (   (– } –   =}     }

his hands bluster metal splinters light is hot

no breaks / the gig economy rocks my

children to sleep these heroes built straight

out of rubble plastered & presto ode to sick

leave no to endless work as the officer’s

farting on me in a dream about the

revolution in language as in labour we spell

that with a ‘u’ here i.e. we put u in it he

just about  dies for it one arm bent into

a perfect shape a life  time of repeated

action stacks on like a soundtrack

 

—-^     ~~~°°°~     #—°°° –^ <–[   –° — { — – >   > ’ ” ” } — >

 

~ / >   —   –             ⌥             ° >

smoking a dart you open up a

window onto another galaxy or

town / post-punk tom roberts

fawn over local women, as

opposed to ‘the female form’ &

make instructional videos for

perpetuity (who’s she?) calmest

action plays tricks w the eye at

100kmh it’s like tv  the episodic

marks time, glistens

 

 

— –<<       < ~~}     } \`\`– -\ |||( *     )|||*

~

PDF: Gareth Morgan Poems