Bull doves and fugam

The mist drones like a bus
the notions that people carry in their briefcase wallets
am I blunt? am I coarse? am I fertile vehicle;
today I saw at least infinite elements made from men
in the element was pressure, outside the element was chaos
don’t bring me bad news baby because we invent it;
today we heard the street making bread,
yesterday we make the planets roll into lap-dogs and Polizei,

I am not black friday, numbers are rolls of a head, the depotting space
despises the way we dance, good targets in the fixture of glass,
the buffoon said to the sea: the warriors said to the sun: the white
pour of flight: the ingest of the air: the queue I am not, the letter
of Moi, the calashaderine, mango empires that have no face,
look at me! look at my palm! The holding of theory in books-
Cannot learn the way of beasts.


is Raoul Moat in a boat. His first words were ‘Newky Brown’. As well as being our most prolific writer, René also creates graphic art, paintings and screenplays.

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