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Your android dreams of explosive surgery, a neural net. Bliss can only be repetition and change: drainage bliss
This shift dissembles, full of empty behaviour. Soliloquise unrobed, flesh quivering its message: your flat incapability, for example
Noise in the picture. A holocaust of objects in this twentieth century-and-a-half. Untraceable trace. Puppet fucks * Pushing angels to the ceilings. No substitute for a day. Send a picture postcard home
Drums explosive in the tottering future, with knowing chaos. Is this, then, a new identity?
She sucked bliss into him. An idea is bliss inhibited, inhabited. The human scents in mutuality. O lick that parting smile pulls on the empty
Unrobed you wear your gloss and the neurons repeat: unrobed, the graveyard shift * Shift to a new line of enquiry. A building so quiet it is invisible. Or is until
As if in the eyes, enter by the exit, inhibited exhibition, reverse annotations
Concepts, enter an audience, cannot step unrobed into the same theory twice
What if bliss were see-through? All men are created stained, breaking voice and wind. Sleaze jellies quiver * Narrative gravity holds us, muscular lips quivering with threat. A left handed shift in melodic complacency. We're two, brewing hormones. A shift-accelerated bliss, limbs flying apart
A history of feeling: my eyes enter a clause entire, stream. O shred your light
An explosive creak through a whisper of sensation. Apart, you enrobe these hesitant acts. A mobile one-ness * Unrobed in dreams my lady moans complaint; her lips delineate excess
Shift the univeral trick, searching for our quivering uniqueness. Its other life trembles
A bridge trills, explosive. Bliss rims detonate the centre. Enter
February - December 1997
Robert Sheppard
You can read Robert Sheppard's discussion of "Twentieth Century Blues", the series from which these poems are taken, in this issue of Jacket.
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