Code Mut 1. On Blinding Larks their melody sips from cracks in the pavement virulent poison primal and long like my poor blind birds I will never see the sun no morning for the sight I've undone only choruses for midnight and memories of mornings past one was of sorrow shaken with anger one was a sweet trill with measures of light 2. Undertone when I fell from the tree that summer I thought that I had died I lay amongst the moss and leaves and tubers and ties uncoupled in my mind the sky was filled with dandelion and heather and soft, unearthly sound it seemed to me an exodus from heaven of strangers coming down oh down where once a canopy benignly waved over my head now only bitten fingers tick against a sky of laboured breath yet it is not so truly unfamiliar this agitated dream where mourners chatter at my bed and suck my flesh into the earth delivered under to disassemble there dispersed and wonder-filled I do not miss the air down amongst the grasses and down amongst the beetles and passed between the earthworms' mouths underneath the landed dew air filtering like water far down below the mourners and the blind things in their kingdom come 3. Dialogue a serpent is kept in this pillow a mentor and critic blue all the day and at night begins to jade how can it hope to be any more than a(it?) can not a human but a low thing its seminars languish in failure scribbled in spidery, spit-spattered achres long long drone there, a lovertheif that must suffer it all suffer directly and squeeze and gather up your sheets and swing and swing and swing in isolation quiet please I am locked in with you like a fiend from some film I can't quite remember sour and neglected friend whose old skin became hard unnamed but now a face at the window so let us do death as I am already in parts from promising dreams I cannot deliver mad and dejected lamp that has never gone out just condemned to make shapes on the ceiling you don't fool me now with a calm demeanour in this washing of thoughts I have watched your blood boil slow now we're simply pieces estranged a blinking beacon and boat separated by some heavy shroud this skin sticks like a mangled cloth to be wrung and wrung and never dry out press in feel the passages swim from a wall of dark eyelids where memory plays like old film of cells reticulation unclean, unsure unclean and elevating peel from the screen such paper-thin fingerprint wings cling and constrict in cellophane twists so suffocating the snake is in the nest to swallow every piece of recollected guilt it forces me to keep the snake is in the nest it tightens in the night to keep the meat distressed and lock me in its sights 4. Affliction Whatever you are I acknowledge your shade is moving Potent and cool Maybe empty For where there were mars Now the summer hides uneasy And whatever you are Made it so Dim lights unbury you Broken words and crumbling stone Softly loom the night affliction From a blackened benediction From the thickening darkness Soundless Tyrant-eyed / rejecting light An uneven crawl of hunger - slow steps of neglected dances Unremitting flower of shadow You have called to me in slumber Stole out from your quiet collection Latched your veins about my stupor Dim lights uncover you Broken words and crumbling stone Cautious is your circulation Toxic flux of cruel intention Whatever you are I acknowledge your sight expanding And somewhere in the room you are breathing For where I was lost only you could fill my vision And whatever you are made it cold 5. Contours late answers lap around the bliss-wet air beneath me cold gulps, as many as required won't seal up the ceiling stare stay, filter now all of my rats have departed I can wane somewhere apart from the noise pause here and colourize the pain because soon I'm alighting the lifting beams glide down siphon into the overspill beckoning the outlines signals lull flickers in a new time contours your grooves are filling up an anaesthetic crush and I draw out 6. Inland Sea a lonely silhouette returns upon the inland sea to keep my eyes from looking up I focus on the haze ahead whose ghosts are shepherded by chills that trip and undulating haze no voice no peace no anchor here no remedy can permeate loss -- is this loss with sudden introspection with my scanning of horizon and my hands in restless motion loss has left me at the surface left me to this little ocean gone to settle at the bottom with its tortured concentration loss on the inland sea through fear I keep myself aboard upon the inland sea whose barnacles have sured me up whose salt has shrunk my wooden boards and every drop it seems to me could pull my fragile craft apart no rest no flag no pleasures here no beam to break the ghastly murk so -- is this sorrow a romantic disposition with my gaze out through the phantoms all in doom and weak confusion sorrow wracked me on the water made me desperate and open just to pass on from the deck and sink down to some silent treasure sorrow on the inland sea a lonely figure there upon the inland sea whose hollow mask is shot with grief which calcifies with melancholy my heart is overboard my mind drops through the oily deep no life no thought no entropy a surface that I shall not see 7. Cocoon in a cask where I am constant hidden article of hurt like a hapless plane descending like a flower without dirt what will I be if you return me if the parched heart stutters to motion will your new tongue clap in my head like a bell a clamour of secrets under gauze and under the rapids under covers sick with attention slowly sinking far from the setting sun and for no one changeling -- I am caught in a blur in only your view my bleakest transition powerful sleep what a powerful sleep this must be come to me oh come to me I feel you only as something remembered distant and ended and pulled in my path through a fog and what would I be if you return to me freed of pigment free of sensation will you leave me dreams of the cold cocoon under skin and under construction will I work with my hands with a wonder never certain that you have left at all but what does it matter if I am distorted here I have you to compose me I have you to replace my fear 8. Numb, An Author numb as a clock with a drawn face haunted by my beats numb an author uninvented by sleep broken arm uninvented by sleep a tumbling wheel forming patterns in the sand whirling, uneven a bruise going deeper within releasing unhappiness it's work but not completed but what could be left what corner is kept my fever a cloud that thunders a fiction about you spoiled that which was good of any of it and seizes my moments both scolding and embracing collides with my silence ungraciously devolving and I give it a sign I surely am disarranged by sleep wear me away into my patterns in the sand whirling, uneven a bruise going deeper within 9. The Bloom In The Blast come, the atomized oh, the surge in heat bring the bright white that paralyzed colonies interrupted a case of infection all reduction in my perception I felt the temperature at my fingertips sweep a darkened room clear of malignancies with pure radiation in ripples that flow through my cremation grow let me flow with the changes imperfect glow a glint in wide spaces cut loose the lines and drop into the white the bloom in the blast let me fade in past the silent queues frozen in the glare captive characters lost from a storyline a hull distended its bones re-arranging all out of sequence and outside intention clotted air that must fall in the throatlike molds calefaction extracts the redeption code guant dolls rock their marrows in vacuum snap with misery's dry white grin on quiet world over expose gestures are frantic like wild snow angels the narrowing needlethin shadows who watch a star explode