david spence fm
fm
apples too sweet. the can opener’s penetration into the secreting top layer of oily / puss. You need to reach through the clear sticky liquid to be able to take out the whole apple so that you can lick around it and feel the luscious fluid roll down from your bottom lip onto the apex of your chin. All this while the sharp edges of the serrated tin lid look back at you. The pleasure outways the fear of a cut. A slit. The fucking sharpening. The fluiddity is an endless repeat. Would you enjoy the view of an ancient civization preserved whilst staring through the leg gap of an overweight German tourist with an umbrella in hand whose sweat is as viscous as the syrup which insulated the apple. getting closer to uncovering the buried waking to the yellowed cigarette looking burns on my pillow has become a norm. as i scroll through emails I try and clambour to existence and wake up again to the familiar pattern staring at me when I next open my eyes. This anxiety dimishes slightly when I realise that the burning sensation is from physical discomfort in my ear not involving fag ends. From the ear infection caused by my fake claire’s accessories stud diamond. The puss makes it’s way down the back of my ear and collects near the top of my jaw, in a pool of yellow, piss-like looking condensation in a petrol garage blue-window serium, detritus in a coffee cup. However bodily. The burning could have been from the previous night. compulision was brought firstly from boredom. The more boring the better. Passivity and banality rain supreme. They are the overseers of this placid land. the throbing in my ear could be the accumlation of fatty lipids from the previous night’s gorge. but sitting down now and watching the bowl of weetaflakes and best buy cookies deteriorate into a chocolate flaked milk viscous solution, to go down my gullet in a fast paced slurping motion. Don’t look down. The milk turns more watery. Concentrate on the pregnant lactation. I would do it with soya milk but I can hardly afford this. The vommiting stops when I can taste the curry powder from the soup. Clean up and go again. Sleeping well. Dose off. And then wake up to the smell. use my eyes to smell the sweet burning. Back to 1 of your 5 a day
infandecimal flats, he takes himself seriously, dead, something in the room with silkscarves, in the air of the room. Of course, a travelling man. Not for the first time, he has arrived, and there are rooms, not all the same, as one. Stronger but not clearer. Very dramatic the phone rings. Back to the corn fields and the motel room. The baseball hat sits on the chair. Agreed. Obedience is impossible for him. etc 60 pence. They are the same are they not. The outside being co-operative. No doubt, text him / her, not so dramatic, blue on screen heavily washed out. Go to the dentist, make this better. Romanian reflection of US hockey baseball hat, catalogue it green. Steer into the field and see the tornado go past, mid-west. remove thankless
Š david spence