NEW EDEN

I drew myself, whilst intermittently
tearing wax strips from my softened skin
Short pains between the long strokes of my chalk legs
Me, of course, a lion (ess), breaking beige
or maybe an owl?
It's all in the zombie stare(and the 360 swivel)

whatever - I woke up

The beauty of beauty is forgotten
it's taste long bland in our mouths and
slaked from the depths of histamine-dry eyes
unseenbut not impossibly concealed

We have forgotten the art of art
in it's glorious ugly eccentricity
it's sharp angles and grotesque curves
harshly shaded in hidden places
to be looked for, and contemplated
It is me, so as not to cause offence
The flecks of umber fighting within the grey are raw
and savage; opposites vibrating and fighting to be seen

There is a call for revolution (baby)
Not of conspiratorial hate (and government and anarchy)
but of useless aesthetics and stoned, paralysed smiles
A new era; the 25%-extra-free creation of New Eden
as we become our own minds and myths; fantastical
in technicolor apple-tree magnificence
Juice and pulp trembling; oozing from our lips and chins
masticated and shredded as our impulses change
to uncover that which has been hidden

We'll display it all in whitewashed warehouses
Pitched against breeze block and root-broken rubber floors
Magnified and glorified (with a Saatchi price tag); satisfaction guaranteed
Rainbows and starry mists will spring from our palms
calming all who enter; nothing is sacred, just stripped bare
and dragged, naked and screaming into the centre of attention
A limelight needed; cursed and bleeding through shaded vision
We will stun all who view it into trivial silence;gagged
A quiet, contemplating,cake-eatingcrowd;bound




SRWB 2010