N H W: January 2009

01/01/2009

Happening Fast

M83

I’m listening to the music
that we listened to that night.
Shit. I can’t give too much
away but I think it might kill
me. I don’t know what any of it
means. There’s no distance
between beautiful and
heartbreaking. So I’m being
lifted up I guess – either that
or dragged sideways. I wish
I knew my own mind better.
The music was only there in
flashes back then. It weaved in
and out amongst the rest of what
was going on. Fuck. I didn’t make
the most of things – I lost my
courage or something, I wish I
knew better words.

Artificial light

Leave the house when it’s darker
Get back to the house when it’s dark.
Just dark. Not darker.
Put on the stereo. Don’t worry about
Trying to find light for the sake of it.

Corpse

Someone told me to look at the newspaper
because someone I knew was dead; a boy
from school. They found his body next to the
canal at the bottom of some steps. He had a
broken neck. They found him a week ago but
he had to be formally identified before
anyone was allowed to know. The emergency
services who were called by whoever found
his corpse took the boy away, and the family
put flowers in its place; some notes too, but
I’ve not been close enough to read what the
writing says yet.

The Same Day

from the looks of things I’m fairly sure that it’s still
the same day
although
it’s hard to tell
there’s this thing that someone else might call
a blanket of sleep
that keeps making itself known
but whatever
either way
I know
that it’s all just hours
remember where you are
and let me know when you do

New ideas 45

I try looking at real life again. Stuff that’s happening now. Part of me wants to put a hand out and flip it so that I can see the worms and the way that its feathers are covering blank bones and tiny bits of rotted flesh and shit. I think I’m scared to, or it just creeps me out thinking about the germs and the stuff that I don’t know whether to expect or not. I think about the bird falling from the sky again.

A woman walks past so I pretend to be doing my shoelaces. The look she gives me might mean that she thinks I look weird. I feel weird about the suit for a second until she's gone.

Words by Thomas Moore. http://thomasmoronic.blogspot.com