to hell with love to hell with truth to hell with pulling out the tooth to hell with light to hell with spark to sit there crying in the dark oh pity me! oh pity you! to hell with green and red and blue refurbishment, maintenance, glue and turquoise, gold and silver too and nourishment and who we screw and living the same day anew again, again, again, again is anyone out there my friend? will you like me if i lend you my fav’rite little pet a while just don’t return a crocodile and if you do, is that ok? ‘s that what i am? and will my right to be so different day to night bring on a bitter, painful end surrounded not by caring friends but nurses, doctors, gurneys, ropes and catheters and stethoscopes and offal, coughing, spitting, hope destroyed against medicine’s wheel and products of the poppy fields and byproducts of carbon life subsumed by earth, and rotted and rerotted, dug up and refined and pressed into a pill, then smartly dressed just cannot lose their life-force, still they’re not your friend and they can kill and def’nitely will make you ill and make you talk a load of... quite the opposite of what you should cause what is good is what is good for you and me and all the others we are all man! we are all brothers! we are not wood! we are all lovers friends and neighbours thieves and thugs and my one wish, for just today ’s that violence would go somewhere and die a death in pain, agony out of breath sobbing at the consequence of it’s own nature’s abhorrence without a blanket, hope of drugs tortured by a bunch of thugs can i be sure that i am real? can i be sure that i am right? is it the case that i don’t steal? and yellow, purple, black and white are my principles watertight? i got so gone the other night i can’t remember if my sick had ended up on some prick’s dick he doesn’t have a goal he tends to micro-manage he tries to have control cause it tends to limit damage she thought she had a heart but that was made of coal was tearing her apart cause she could not find her soul or another to connect what she felt to what she thought she always had it all but she felt it came to nought all along the way both destroying to create and all they ever needed was a lover, and a mate and another to reflect that what they thought that they needed was really what had stopped them and impeded, not succeeded and both were full of doubt feeling empty and alone a whimper or a shout? a sponge perhaps, or stone? but perhaps it had to be we had desires we had to sate before we understood about the need to procreate d’ya think that i’m ok? d’ya think that i’m a nut? it really doesn’t matter don’t believe that you’re a slut and all along the way trying never to be cut keeping third eye on the ceiling stumbling backwards, eyelidshut i can move the earth and you can be the sky so long as we keep it simple do our best to never lie as long as we relate instead of trying to die taking photos of the birds in the sunlight flying by to hell with doubt to hell with pain to hell with all that is insane to hell with jealousy and hate to hell with that old passive state; the halfway house twixt life and death and wasting all that precious breath on careless fools and wasted scum and potholes, faultlines rashomon and going out and getting gone just safety, home, no telly on just ping-pong, heartbeats back and forth the compass sharply pointing north so that we know where on this earth springs the water of our worth a surplus, not a sorry dearth quarks and quanta strings and waves not drug parties and techno raves cause life is lived in analogue hysterical and primal cry and zeros, ones and gog-magog to the tree-frog don’t apply and mass has magnetism, true so i believe what we should do ’s not try to be the right way up or fill right to the brim the cup but every day, and all the time is do our best to bear in mind that surely opposites attract and think, perhaps, that what we lacked was turning around, with back to back with third eyes shut, near heart-attack and in denial we’re not treasure take away the very pleasure we’re together to imbibe it’s getting harder to describe now but here goes: god damn, i’ll try: bi-polarity’s no lie and mass improperly aligned and out of touch with signals, signs and signifiers has capacity whilst still relating in a way to destroy the everyday and make together untogether and repulse in equal measure all colours unified are white and black is just absence of light put them together, you get grey funny thing is, that’s just OK! oh look at me! oh look at you! to hell with all that is not true affirmative, to all above and in the end, there’s only love henry marsh, 6 jan 2012