Wednesday, 1 April 2009

'Space Relations, 1' by Sophie Robinson



Unconscious. Nod. “where were you lying when you
woke up?” His wire antennae quivering with pink polka-dots
it was hot everywhere Shake of the head. An unlucky day.
Another negative. Breathed Shake of the head. Warbled
Back into bed and stay there anxiously, Nod. Knowing
The moist air masses. Shake of the head. More dust. Negative.
Shriek, now! Nod. One of the more memorable insanities. Nod.
A racking sob. “My friend said she was nothing anyhow,
Dated the town thugs in quantities electro” Did anybody die
She was not drunk, and I sensed nothing forced in her – Our body
Reacts to this with an intense sensation of thirst. Her language closed
Was tame and stiffened with the pain, hot, fat and worried.
Gently every trace of perspiration vanishes, the backward flow of
Phantasied attacks meet at a certain point further down
A vast cube of obscure space. To the dead already fucking
Is the name we give the krypton and neon which surrounds our sick
Cream processing machine and make us too obviously tormented,
Too fragile to withstand the remix of her milk and her
Finger-nails: did he die here, or was he dead when he
Came?

The doctor bent over building a style to cope, stood up,
And looked steadily at her girlfriend, a starlet named
Ramona with webbed hands like a duck, make-up caked
Grey and crumpled, said to the Dictaphone “you will be
Pretty sick if you do not at once lie down and stay quiet. I
am in charge here now. So you just take it easy.” He
kills the thing he loves in order to learn something new.
In order to lighten the burden of anxiety about an old
Object, face so imbued with the smoggy sunlight. You’re
Terribly tired, after shootingoff firecrackers spinning drunk.
WE’RE NOT ROBOTS! WE’RE NOT ROBOTS! Nod. The
Vague, reddened eyes closed.

Against translation of this delicate laboratory. Both
Looked at the lady. She walked slowly over. Her sexual
Stories were pills for upset, damage he may have inflicted
And, her head with innumerable pins, had begun to fray to
Block his view if he should open his eyes, silently man –

TO BE CONTINUED

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