Prose

 

Sample from THE MANY MAN IN MEN (1999)

I felt a bit like a Lunatic Lynx lost in the lanes of Long island, looking at a lorry loaded with loud lemming that had been lost themselves. Loads of liquidized Karma leading the Lorry driver tatter towards a tidden ledge beyond the next left turn left tired left turn. The Anesthetist applying her anesthetic to my aches was considering an automatic arrival with the autocratic Angels. I was prepping a lonely homestead within this appalling apocalyptic atmosphere that I now know to be Pauled. There’s no point in appearing to appreciate the army of ass-holes that are arriving to your door on a daily basis. Their attitudes remain astronomically unavoidable unless you are an Alien from Uranus anchored on earth with no senses to scare you, share you or diddlee Idle dare you. I was completely crustacened from a crazy confusion. Dumb, delicate, desperate. Like a community based group of Hermaphrodites applying to the Health Board for a sex change.

  The change in me was changing nothing.  


More samples from THE MANLY MAN IN MEN(1999)

Some dreams deem you dormant. Others dangerously document the dangers of an inner awareness. Rare dreams rescue their recipients from a rotting reality within a rotten reality. All dreams are very like secret scenarios in the mind. Abundantly abstract in their content yet so real in their purity. A detailed description of this dazzling darkness dares to call itself Nameless. Prior to falling asleep there was no intentions of escapism. A holiday of the heart had hold of my desires to creep away quietly like a silent trawler from a silent sea.

“Come” thought It.

“Came” thought I.

thought I !

thought I !

I was a tired traveler standing in a rural railway station just at the right time for a wrong train to the right region of receiving. It was freeing, friendly, fantastic and frightening all at the same time. As my entrance endorsed its existence, visions of my face seemed eager to erase itself until an instant inner indulging interrupted the impulsive impatience for an immediate intermission of this imaginary inlet. I knew this escapism had its dangers. Knew too well that a holiday from hell can spell Hell with a capital H as soon as you return.


Samples from DIARY OF A FETUS(2000 – 2003)

I’m a switch forgotten memory over discussed fragment Pirates suck diesel for Madrid bellows Evil under guise grow of freedom lows so let small feet battle endless covert mindsets without warning to our people silly people plop clour people solly people solly pepel plasey people. Just a five-time loser. Just a dime-time dinner. Lookatrot. Let me Look alot. Let me search inside. Perhaps pressure peels cross pressure tross gra lesser fragmentation. Never eat ice. Never drink Ice. Dice lands Watchtowers within finger-tipped  partition of Teleported Triumph of old.Boat to Eden. Eighteen, six foot, likes to fuck, I’m in luck. “I’m Lonely”

Post fairground adjective’s in a moon rigged vertebrae slide to be postured parazoned dignified domain of Arkanzaee Zadafrea Artisticrea in his Picadorian Mansions five miles west of Texan oil tycoons metrical marquee for a man called man born east of Oklahoma on a ranch made by misfits where they forgot where they festered. Rigged polar expedition to crickets tightened growth junk hurt missing child fears monster, after all the time spent weeping on corner of turf shed with Mama. Pair of small. Hands. Pair of. Inch hands. Lawnmower. Man. Missing. Man. And then fluid raced from Brain to Brain. Jail is a far cry from Jesus. I love my brother as much as anyone. “I’m Lonely”

Vanity sparks outrage on a Manhattan street as Grown men affiliate disperses deliverance’s in a china shop travel too fight pike make the night deliver its Epitaph to a Marooned what sleeping aeon a feet make me sit and wait like tough orange. Abbreviate a fine foot fairy. Let Patches cover our eyes. Let Money deliver us to Egypt. Let Egypt keep its gold, much too old, much to munchies. For a fiver I once killed the King of England. For a score he told me to roar. For a ten I killed him again. “I’m Lonely”

That’s like saying Chopin was an Orang-utan. That’s like saying Mozart was a Mizz-Art. That’s like saying Clifford was a Lizard. That’s like saying Pain is a Pantomime. That’s, that’s that’s, that’s, that’s like that’s like, that’s like saying Joyce was a Gentle Soul. Roll, Roll, Roll your soul gentle down deceased, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life’s the death you meet. “I’m Lonely”

Meet me on the bed we shared just before Christmas. I had your hands, under my hand, under the hand, under hand, under head, under hibernation of certain Sheets we Shared. Meet me, it’s a make-believe meet me. You don’t have to be there, you don’t even have to have been there. You just have to be there, at the make-believe place, with the make-believe life, in a May evening, May Morning, may I make-believe. May I, May you, may, may, may, may, make-believe. I have just witnessed the Greatest moment of my life. “I’m Lonely”

A seagull died this morning, and far from grieving, I laughed until I fell into the Sea. See – Seagulls mean little to me, either do you. “I’m Lonely”

X-ray watertight a tender muscular var poppey in nitrate. Petrolia heave them grown for Paddy the Market Trader to be greeted by Tantrums that quill night frustum a terror at the hands of captive captors and their coptive creepers in harmony with Sea Horse, Urchins, bunch of wise men sitting on the side see-saw saying wise saying to the Serpents. Hand you back to Penelope; she tends to get very Impatient. “I’m Lonely”


LETTERS OF THE LOST – (2001 – 2006)

Lorraine departed from the filing-cabinet existence approximately two seconds after mercury
violated manias and aborigines were weeping top-soil for more soil. In the meantime we’ve
died a little every time Stella finds homage selling Odessa to my rationalisations. Its a sort of
punishment thing but its justified when pride has you by the balls and tall men are creeping
meaninglessly into your mind whispering “suicide is the bride you must marry”.
Over doses are closer now. An under-dose of love is an overdose of drugs. Slugs are
slipping from their hind legs and beg to differ is fitter than a lama trotting on his forelegs to
Getsemini. Young people oppress the mortification of adulthood with a “Would we be safer
inside” side effect to the movie their watching in a theatre about nine miles west of
Philadelphia. The fragrance of midnight must be lighting. It dashes from space, howling
through my living room. Adriatic is still shooting anacondas, wishing Melinda never foretold
Princess Marseillaise to hide there for a care to pare it down like a clippers. Whippers are
always out when bright planets had it with us and rushes fly up my back like a whack from a
stranger who’s in danger of receiving a beating from me cause he has no pals and wont have
pals till we agree to be what he wants us not to be. I’m blabbing about babble until Annie
saddle’s horse’s for a run past the presbytery. Wide awake is breaking the time-warp. I miss
Mary so much that butch wouldn’t stop us from being together, if she wanted us together,
but she don’t. I wont think about loving her back cause I am not like your average kid that
wants to be rid of his pride.

I’m sitting on a cold pavement. Its February or October or somewhere. Outside this
inner city hovel. I’m hovering from rage. Smelling the scent of her cotton panties. Wanting to
break my own neck. I’m way too attached to my grave to place disgrace on the memory you
will have of me. Suicide is the only precious parcel I have left. Left is light. Right is night-time
on the right time. Perth is worth liberated money and bunny rabbit is in the habit of shooting
heroin after lunch. The crunch came when Lebanon got a hunch that brunch is one hour it
rarely remembers. Remember that lard is for cooking. Remember that Madonna is older than
rover the statue. Remember that I had to do more than I was not meant to do. Had to do itdidn’t
you!. Matthew said it all when he called last month to grunt and groan about the
homeland and the dry land and the. Hand me some sort of a hope box so I can watch my life
become a daisy in a meadow with a feeling in its petals, and a metal pot there to protect its
heart from a smart thief who knows a thief that steals nature. I ditched life like school
children. Gone for three centuries. I ramble from the bath-room periodically, puking on the
carpets, furniture, balcony. Over-doses are scenes one rarely thinks of or talks about, or
walks about. I am so alone. In pain from hips to head. I wasted her life, my death. I keep
saying the same stuff like a continues” ruff-ruff-ruff” from spot the X. I…….I……I sit here,
holding her panties. I’m way too far into my grave. Placing me in a selfish position. Suicide is
what I have left until rest cometh to comfort. I’m over dosing on purpose. The purpose being
of paramount importance to pitching life like school children do when their home is no more a
sanctuary than a jail cell and the bells in the yard leave scars the size of world war two’s
rehabilitation package after the package was sent back because of lack of funds. The saddest
moment in my journey was when daddy’s wife told me about the Santa clause lie. Paste
might never hit the wall. Paste on the screen. Paste on veins that wage war on Berlin. Wall
got torn down.

Wall got thrown around and, down there they say little, just look at the beam from the
bottom of the tall, slender hill that fills the gap between the gap and the black.
Lets taste the copy poppy.
Uuhh!
Uuhh!
The raw taste I waste runs down the yard past Abba. We’re flowering sour cream in
the mean time, signing a contract sacking all bosses from the job of bringing yobs for dinner
engagements.
Bigger the better. Worm snug up to the worm. Camel to the camel. Iguana to the
tortoise. Flag to the flag-pole.
Is their anything wrong with loving anything you want when you want to. I say no
way, but what am I only a guy with a frail mind. Kind as a blank check. Mad as a speck on a
spotless table. One day I just may fade down town for a round trip to respite and Marmite
and….shit!
When slinky legs passed the soda machine all grey and blue trousers grew larger than
life after death. And life is fairly large at times of loss as the wash is drying and the dry
jumpers fly past last to distract the lazy day of spring. Mind vases are cases of sulphur.
Huckleberry hated berries that’s why his father called him Huckel and not just berry.Very
intriguing to be intrigued.
I fantasized about women almost every moment of………….
This woman’s name was funded. Her fundamental aim in death was to set her mind to one
time and only one time. She signed the dotted line and I signed the dotted line and the check
is in the post with …..most people never love anyone.
thatched cottage. Mouse and mouse out. Guitar plays Maggie May and…say…did you
mutter some word to someone last night cause some strange someone said you dread being
talked about at social occasions. I’m not accusing you but your found guilty, so get the loose
and choose you hangman and. I sang that song for you last Saturday and you cried but now
its Sunday and your Mondays are some sort of holy day cause you never came to visit and
you never came to love me back and. Never believe in blue blankets cause there sort of like a
sea and a sea is deep and, don’t ever get that deep with her under blue blankets.
Smiley comes from home. Its like the home town is drowning in itself. There’s flowers
and trees and lovely women with their Irish smiles and fantastic presence and aether. Have
you seen my dreams pass this way or…anyway. Lend me your ignorant imagination, see the
dream go by with both eyes lighting like matches on a church candle. Dread-locks are
neither funky or fashionable. Hash is cash for the last drug dealer and wheeler in the
Bahamas is much more sunny than sonny’s home town. He reminds me almost every day
that he loves the “stay smiling no matter what” way of life. Then he knifed me in the palm of
my hand. You’d understand what kind of man he was if you drove down to L.A on a summers
day and past the border to Mexico. Mexico was Cincinnati. Dean was mean as he was
portrayed to be generous. Regan was a Satan in grey clothes and who knows about the
whereabouts of Montgomery and Charles and. Sand in the sea. Meat in sheep. Feet on
human so we go scuba diving in Barbados over the sea-grass that would love to lash out at
us for fluffing its extinction to non-distinction. Kick Norris off the scene. Kick veal off the
display counter. Relish dreams as land-owners feed the dessert rats in Idaho.
They all stand to stand up for someone they know little…..about the loan you gave me?. Can
I pay you back last Tuesday or Wednesday because I probably won’t have the money to lend
myself money until a funny man with a funny hat knocks on door with a “More Money” face
to lace my face with happy happiness. I imagined once that all this world was just that. “An
all this world”. We had all the love we need. We have all the food we need. We have all the
smiles and sex and then I realised I was lying.
I rock and I rock in my rocking chair. I rock and I rock in my rocking chair. I swing
and I swing in, my days are less than happy. My ways are less than moral.
On a pathway to Doris we were not so happy, yet we made our own way and we
washed our own clothes and we silenced many vulgar men. They were working on us and we
were working on them. Sand was worried about lake on Yellowstone turned yellow and all the
yellow faces said it were their fathers failing to mind their mothers. They all fell victim to
alcoholism but it is nobodies fault but nobody.
All children go into bad moods at a bad age to be in a bad mood. They forget that
when they do get old they will not have old memories to ponder once they went wrong at the
wrong stage of the wrong age. The gage was probably levering towards zero when hero from
Somerville yelled to me it was free to get petrol from the earth. All we needed was a million
and a good backer. I was sneakier than him to win money from friends but I was in anyway
cause we signed that contract that day and had the army in by Wednesday the 21st. Worst
thought was that we’d find hell. It was alright said friend, we found the end of the line when
the mine blew up. I was named president of the seconds biggest oil company on Orlando. I
was grand old man and can you pass me my champagne please?
Fat lot of good-moods do us. The abdominal are way too easy to despise their worth.
Egypt was Kansas and Ireland was Nigeria in my head. I had shy. Pour some blocks and
make some shakes. I ponder on a board but I’m bored and I’m woken by silence and I’m
shocked by silence and I’m screaming. Hurry up you pup or you’ll be a dog before god makes
his prayers accessible to the accessible. I numbed him. I journey. I falter though I journey on
its with a tired way of thinking and a small circumference on my left testicle.You state it not
so clearly.
Oh Golly-
Oh Golly-
Oh Golly-
I fathom dementia and forge high intensity prognosis on the patient that wasn’t very
patient to either my views or my intentions. Dennis masquerades as Anna but his candles are
further away and his light is whiter than a bright ship whistling upon the Mediterranean with
a pin in its bow and a cow mooing on the stern. Perms look good on her as she purrs when
she takes…he’s out back making cracks at the neighbours cousins and fluffing her pillows is
still a show off thing to practise. Savour life. Kick stones. Paddles a river and shiver me
timbers. Finders was a dry balls after all. I stalled at Glauntan cause the fawn was sick. Its
mother had gone undercover to another mother or some other animal that was stolen by a
goat. He knew it didn’t want to be festering in some other mothers womb. Soon we will all
have the same mother.
Soon we will all make love in a bed that was said to be made by God himself. I don’t know
why I don’t get tired and I don’t know why I do get tired, but I get tired and I don’t get tired.
If you tell me please telex it to my friend’s machine and he will pass it on. I carried the
women off her wheelchair and down the stairs. She shared her weakness and I didn’t care
about her suffering. Little Jim was thin and ferociously fearless until his father gasped-
“Bridge!”