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what were olive trees

from At First Sight by Late Works, Fen Trio

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lyrics

the things scattered under the moon
were only silence
or, well, other things also:
the crisp shadows of what were olive trees
that filter away down from the mountain ridge
toward the sea, the white fronts, the little waves,
whose sound you imagine as quieter than it
really is
crashing and actualising the rocks, whose miniature
lagoons find crabs fluttering, the apparatus of
some terribly dramatic nightmare, fluttery,
prehistoric bat then also, fleshy, unfortunate,
and creaking, - remember, they have eyes -
like the configuration of things you know
will happen just a few minutes from now -

TD


wire me up
sit still bristles and burrs

we stood
by the lilies an insect on
my neck
my legs were cold

sticky feet
and salt Grecian
on my hips surge

stir me
a cultivated spin

a lark cried
in the meadow corner pulse between
my toes

FICKLE AND TENDER ARE
THE EDGES , I CLING
TO THEM

Lest the night end

HM


What resilience is such
a hardy tone that one trunk
or branch may question a
true-meant advice parcel?

I think probably the negligent and
the orgiastic should have a
bath sometimes, in other words.

HN


It was syndicate ————
live ——————
blue ———
Pushing around around the stars
slipping on butter con-
-vulsing whispering shh. shh.
SHHH hunt me
They said hunt me
I swim in oceans in salt
lakes in rivers I beat
currents I live in moments
I let my body become
it. ———————————
yes more
more more——
more more ————
— i can hold ———— it

MZ


MOONFLOWER

THERES THIS MOONFLOWER LIKE
NOCTURNE’S CROCUS RESIDING IN
AN EBONY LIP OR
ALL THESE TAUGHT STRINGS I
AM SPILLT I
AM FULL OF IT I
CAN’T LILT HERE
IN FULL SIGHT OF AN
ARMY OF DUST BUNNY HONIES
I’M ROPE-A-DOPE
I CAN COPE
TAKE FLIGHT AND
FIND A NEW DOGGERLAND
OR
I CAN CHANGE
CROAK
AND FEEL
GOLFO

LM


MILKSHAKE

PUSHING UP AGAINST PORES
THE MELODY EXCRETES ITSELF
IN QUAVERS AND QUAKES
DROWING IN LOST SCALES OF
BLUES, TERRA-COTTA OR
MIS-TAKES
MILKSHAKES
DISTASTE
STOP CHEWING AND SPIT IT
OUT IN POPCORN
BALLS
OF FOR
HER SAKE
HIS SAKE
THEIR SAKE
MILKSHAKE

LM


FUCK
FUCK
FUCK
THIS DAWN IS OPENING AND I’M STILL HERE
DUST SHEETS EXHALE IN THE MORNING
THE OLD OAK CHEST WITH ITS BURNISHED DRAWERS
AND A PIANO FORTE GONE SOUR
HOUR, HOUR,
OUR TIME IS UP

VLA


Hieroglyphic curtains uncovering a chaosmos
Diagonally face the punch & judy abyss
Neighboured by a field calling a boy calling,
‘wolf!’
And a human pouring water on a decision
to push a blue or red button
Bled to liquid enthused architecture amiss
* proturbingly found enthralling, “unself!”
Viola & cello centred by a Nord Piano
Pianist sprouting sunflowers
Outing won powers diagonalling
graphs of light;
an eatery, a field:
wielding a beatery next to
the next.

MJS

credits

from At First Sight, released July 18, 2019

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Late Works London, UK

indeterminate intermedia improvisation

permutable collective of artists, musicians, writers, film- makers, designers and dancers who perform at the nomadic series of live events of the same name & monthly radio show on Resonance Extra.

lateworks.co.uk ... more

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