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This piece is about 5 printed pages long. It is copyright © Michael Farrell and Jacket magazine 2008.See our [»»] Copyright notice. The Internet address of this page is http://jacketmagazine.com/36/farrell-m-3.shtml
structures p
if you took
him apart youd find him
even more convincing every
time hes on the other
mans a beast
little flower no more
what
an amazing way
you must assemble them
the suicides &c
it was trivial
laziness & stealing threads
it should be
you who are the prince
the ruler of colour — — —
& comedy
is in my method acting
everyone
gets a song
if theyre friendly
the charms off
i feel
sorry for them
the unusual
boy is behind
the question building
–this
is a first
men clap–
he
can walk you
home
what began as animation
soon became serious heart
failure they have
to save
a fairy from delusions
the crossing
is ready
for his hair
to blow off
your life — — —
engineered
to be rapped about
a seal
could
do a better job
–the dead dont even notice
the blueness
the incessant cakerie
thats part of it
be my guest
tarzan
lubricant gloves thermos voila
humiliation in
the corner store
come & see
the wild black sheep
my blistered skin
voice deeper than average
but i said no
bad diction
the tread has worn ‘out’ from being
used,
already half stodge ‘the quandary’
naked from the bath screaming wheres uncle?
in fortitude valley, again?
wondering what kind of flull undo us next
we unpack the slightly crushed hats
the ad has worn ‘out’ from being
read,
‘a borrowed table & a few dummies fool the press’
‘a fellow addict & a few sparrows eat the peas’
when the gnome appears
he needs a haircut in the coma
the card has worn ‘out’ from being
played,
like bourke st, honey?
what they say in the 60s movies about prague
like the precinct, officer?
wondering if well be linked by the priest
looking for the weetbix pools of blood by the shut forests of ripponlea
where the fences end
there were all kind of men with scooters beards & yarmulkas
naked from the waist blueeyed dont touch?
there were all kinds of women with scooters beads & miracles
like sinead oconnor, bonsoir?
where the foxes breed
we pick up the bread crusts
cutting up a pork chop, grilling frozen chips...
he stares, a greatcoat walks in empty
‘a holey spoon & a snooker ball up the arse’
looking for the gatorade a ref unconscious by the chalk lines of elsternwick
the sheep on his pjs excusable at his age...
left his porridge ‘the brick’
wondering if well do right by our guests
why the eggs break
what they say in 60s movies about detroit
what the branches do
there were five kinds of duck each with its own sauce
no cows on blocks?
the pump has worn ‘out’ from looking
birdlike,
on the floor the remains & traces of grandfather ‘the chefs’
wondering if they need to improve their pecs
on the floor a piece of a black eye ‘the incorrigibles’
the sprockets have clogged up from showing
pap,
in the river junk we didnt know was invented ‘the grandees’
what they say in 60s movies about rio
leaking like an mp he skips around the clinic piano as if somehow moved
a new lover ‘the bathtap’
going outside to practise ‘the greeting’
Michael Farrell
Photo by Pam Brown
Michael Farrell has published 3 books: ode ode, BREAK ME OUCH and a raiders guide.