poem for charlotte gainsbourg

picasso guitar
star cars
sack of devils
on a superficially profoundly
je ne sais quoi
back

no rules
except no rule
except
except
pain of Denmark

dandies
friends and neighbours
david lynch
volcanoes of stuff

i look like a mother
fear in the face
bravely contained
time to take a dance
and shit

car skeleton
stars again
beatnikking around the no point
devil flavour hunger
classic black and white
still like a gallery
mediterranean fields
radiating

charcoal
long gloves
another cigarette
seduction
love
opera
glasses

crackly dusty vinyl
crackling to life
digital analogue straw hat peace
everyone is in space
hiding in toadstall houses
or marching ten feel tall over cities
and watching clouds

ten five seven eight
thirty three and light
bumpkin dibble and krob
salad and saunas and marble floors
skimming like dice across an endless palm