The quarry
A dangerous place
Scab on the earth
An operation of take
...
At least tomorrow I can sleep,
ignore the rapid fury of open eyes rasping my presence.
...
Every morning a woman comes and hand picks her rubbish -
Gems discarded by the elite of the city.
...
Cream laden valleys
Antarctic canyons and elevations
Whitest milk from the greenest fields;
Impossible neutrality
...
A woman stands illuminated by a single light,
shivers in a capsule as the cold night bites her ankles,
...
Again I enter where I have never been
Through the passage and into the world I create
What I create will again conceive a different tomorrow
A want of the better, and more of the unknown
...
Into the night the revellers dig
Not for gems or liquid power, comfort in another mouth;
...
A man I met
who likes the odd drink
Told me to believe only half of what I see and
nothing of what I read
...
Creating a horse with the floating clouds.
Upward vision into the path of super-jets.
...