photograph moi my mother my zhukov

in street of warnambool aboriginal name is forgotten i am in garage with gangsters discussing life of batteries perhaps a little something else i cannot discuss here as i watch mr giodorno bruno play a game of golf perhaps another entirely misinterpreted though i listen when he orders a counter lunch from barmaid who is working topless for fee that is so small it covered only necessities

camera man caught between breaths pulls machine away from focus i thought i arrived at earlier in sequence somewhere along route where we ordered food for family forgotten on journey though you could observe walker evans waiting for shot that wouldn’t come for another century but maybe earlier than i think whenever i can i wear clothes of a duke who once lived on periphery of nations discovered much too late for me to be awarded reparations though i attempt a mild heroism riding down these roads to wherever they go

i am crawling on all fours inventing independence amongst savages

bringing out measurement for all luck it will bring no luck
at all times i am regarding here features extraordinary as she manages geography i gather for her here at this time whenever that is ask isaac newton who is learning from landscapes i am drawing for him beauty disabled by devices i have developed capturing a creation or two maybe i went hunting with boys as they burnt down a forest & came out where river ran into an ocean where i drowned before signing contract as scenery moved & chronologies changed & i had to hold veins so very tight & puncture arm so i could learn art of breathing

not knowing days will always be nights i swallow poison regularly on hour at every hour turning music down on a machine i operate from what may be called my deathbed in lyrical moment i have not arrived at answer to this & other questions

angrily all angels assemble at arrivals & departures perhaps

buying cheap cigarettes near deportation centre les halles or hell you can choose though i buy what i cannot afford

someone is singing through syringe as if reed on mekong river

stealing a glance at cheap edition of koran i bought from butcher in rue myrrh
i turn pages while prophet flees medina or medicine
i choose latter always useful when slipping gracefully down a well

wandering with woman who protects architects from themselves certainly she organises forums where they speak
about this & that then something that will define how we’ll squeeze ourselves under foundation of this century
or catastrophe whatever comes first

she’s with chinese doing her exercises tao of how to get back together again twelve boys of hamas are defining god in smaller circles than can be drawn in sand

photograph moi, my mother my zhukov

Christopher Barnet

Christopher Barnet

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