Bennett Street Tapes
June: Creamy work body, ground, nothing wayward outside (or in).

Later and later, sometimes at night when she'd returned, as if beginning, as if already a sound, called a finger, for a moment, a pale fear, curled as expected, right under, how bit by bit, each detail: thank you I was deep in humming and raking which brings an end in June especially.

Are you alright, in addition, the fragment, openly: an order already done, in the reading whence sequence mellow(s)-dramatic, numerous and termly, true word, or termagant, or terminus, fails, & I could send my limbs elsewhere, I could
really place a single thing inside another, a group even, I could really do it, as black vertical line touching black horizon, line alone, and then more, a re-frain (could one tell).

It is almost dark.

Inside, mutter of points, a shape anyway, clear, dim light through plates (a rendezvous), down bends the sky, all appearance below, say forty, or even fifty, no not a film, say six or seven/murders perhaps, but not just hillside, something had to give, surely (not), as smoke, several minutes long, my mouth open wide enough to voice flicks, voice tilts, tilting, sing song, caught up then in this series - seeds tied up (not tilted ever, great relief, must have been morning): beautiful,
maybe, the verdict: I guess: a few minutes more and fading: face it, it's dark, night.

Drop, hard and silver.

From now on, and at the fourth intersection, turn right & (you) will soon arrive, be assured.

Or, instead, a dead end, a steel door, not green or red.

I'll bring up my foot and step out, and head for the stairs, amongst the what's-it-name, folds.

I hope to rest, having missed the train, whatever the reason, light as glow glows slowing downward, beams & bolts, floating round doing this & that, and a million spaces, as small as
mites, and underlined, devoted, sometimes narrow sometimes wide, same as stars, blue or green, red or orange, violet or yellow, that amount of time, transfers, at last unfortunately, pressing sweetness inmouth, tissue from waist to knee, a call: hello.

The syllables rising, to say what I am doing (here), inside, on a frame like so to enjoy & you can tell me of the dust, whatever, it will be liked, no matter which way or which when well well well, in the water, the bucket pulled to the surface and here and here stammer white, and it is white, now, already late, and someone says she has the shakes, and the stutters, no swirl in sight, too too, little feet off the ground, swelling, on knees, the head
crashing, spilling over, and follow(s), who cares, fruitless on film comfort, as inferred (over there: H, for instance), & the execution (of it, its arrival as sound or stranger) will be easier: Blue 3 is another instance of the very same time, Blue 4 is after of course, to go against & praise (a lot, many times, grateful) for the offer, & your bad intention & trouble & further up the road attitude (good & bad, and goody goody smile, prepared strings, otherwise smells), & careless starting with sure and even hand, same as 'a' or your voice, but earlier, and before, for that (to) matter(s), as if one day (andnodeathwillhaveoccurred) we bear to escape precisely.

You can see them, just there (knotted
through screen, plastered), actually felt & stamped, as they might (well) be, gather themselves very very warm, like, yep, a record, a recording.

The road is wet yellow light round the room clothes about cases unpacked and distance made away.

No sleep to the minute, joints, rims, cords, row of dots, round the house, cold out there, the air still air overhead, burning in the smaller place hours ago along the passage, heat nevertheless & something else, duration, and then the raining, small bullets through the head clear as clear, green as green, talking softly and doors open and close, but saying no, suddenly, from nowhere, the lounge probably, pushing and pulling, all the way to the summit,
snow on the slope and the house, a wooden one sunk sharp, to the sea, to the edge, and 'landscapey', building up bones for a last word: introduction.

This is a question, as sentence, one & then another, preceding, and so on, a cover job, lean hungry, and red sleek (well, stop making them) metal pegs, or other stuff & comes to nothing, comes to speaking in glass style, with glory, simply, deliver, today.

The worst, the sheer material effort, the size the scale.

With a few barges rotting on the banks.

Towns one after the other, in the dusk, a certain boredom, of withdrawal, and
fences, and then surprise, the low light from beneath black clouds: for awhile, all the signs on.

Just on, that and the burning wood, slowly misting.

And blue.

Back home the flat sea the sea the sound of the spade (cuhtwhay cuhtwhay) whereas I want shooshing as a note: note.

The night is cool, the cool night, before the hot nights and the shout of the sh, of the shout, hot the boiling air nothing else out on the street the cool street and this is what comes comes next.

A grey bird, grey air, it's Monday, a
little bit of tree at the window, the wind do-in movement, shut in tight box and light circle do-in do-in & wind leaf bloom.

July What is that, tattered, and never at school, closing squares, any closed confined, any closed.

Eyes, the way past buildings, no detail, not a drop, but the ray of light sketched in the letter to Rosie, the view and the air to almost float, the honour of the wall, and someone says all you talk about are things like weather and music and what's what.

In having the child form having perhaps the form growing is going to form the having growing and leaving, to delay, no vow no sight no mention,
in passing, and from this site, going going, is there, so far as day life, and every day, is, to retain to try and retain a certain texture, a separate book documents the rest of July, and August 6 in particular, little one on top of little one, a figure in pink etc, towards the side of the page, like sails, which appear so often, by the way, not from cover to cover, exactly (from the top: an agreement: to the bottom) subject to system, in a way which sticks, the chartreuse and tan and black, stripes.

Next, in keeping with response, comes examples.

Step by step, to further note, as resident, in body, having made it, re passage, a favourite road, the one that follows therefore, it's not surprising,
that lover, described at one level, that is, offers escape, the fade-out of voices is a great great thing, far into distance, away from houses and gardens, no hot voices, speaking, no more nothing, you must come and stay, with the wattle smell, very thin rug over legs, settles, a cigarette, watches platform, light as a bird.

The red table and earring, a red vase, a glass of water.

The beams and bolts, birds flying south, the sound of a train, more birds, sky, a voice, below, a handle, a movement of the shoulder, slowly across a desk, across a window even.

Boxes and boxes, and more secret(s), and on and on, the way a dream can.
The velvet curtains.

Vase, as written before, and lovely voice, as before too, and thinking and eating, at the same time.

Everywhere else still, crammed full of clothes and lights.