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Tight But Loose
Spoken word accompanied with
hair dryers
Performed at The Island, Bristol
In collaboration with Sean Ferrari
2016

Transcript

Distressing

no blessing

not best dressed

But

I’m ploughing, forever frowning.

Digging and bulldozing

Uncontrollably

Turning my own earth

Slowly, steadily

Cultivating a harvest

Furrowing brow, still I plough

Toiling away, keeping my nose to the grindstone.

To carry on

To persevere

Fifth gear

Continuous, linear

This doesn’t fit well to me

The masses against the classes

Melancholia state of diffusion

My sensibility is tested and tried

Staying wide-eyed

Never losing face or worried about pride

A stale scheme , extinction regime

The riff heavy in my heart

The rhythm infectious

Hemorrhaged footsteps

Adaptly inept

Short of breath

The strive, the struggle, the overall brawl beginning to take its toll

Through continuation

Trials and tribulations

Frustration

Damnation

An act of desperation

I maintain progress,

No matter how gradual it may be

Ambition, determination

And crisp conviction

I’m on the cusp of completing my mission

Why does it not have to be in focus

Rustling up hocus pocus

Not getting disheartened

Tell the town crier

Tell the house of lords

My act of refusal will be postponed

I wade and plod

Trudge and clump

Clamber and flounder

Unsophisticated

Knees soaking

Hair sopping

Trousers wringing

Clinging to my skin



 

Uncontrollable, the tense ease

A relentless interruption unforgiving, please

Satisfy my soul, my discomfort, a desired ideal a desired living

It’s a difficulty, no giving, hardly unforgiving

A bit tricky to me as far as the eye can see

“are we too embarrassed, troubled with the bygone?”

Happening from wonder to phenomenon

Appearing in truth through foolish sensations

Unceasingly intense foundations

We play from

Too eager to sit still and stay with time

We bitch, blame and call it all fine

A sense of hesitation offers no remorse

“can’t it stop? Won’t it give a pleasing moment for us?”

Chills down his spine

like a cobra in his brain

Feeling colliding through

Down to his knees

the shake, it’s a shame

Hot summer days and

Cool winter nights

The whining noise plays

To my ears but there’s no sight

We build places and palaces

With walls and ceilings, nine miles high

Places we won’t leave

In our stubbornness there holds limits

These places we fear to move from

Keep our comforts and delights

“I wish I could be honest with you; believe me I’ve tried”

Lost in the push, pull

I was often drifting

Missing what I had never found

Trying to find the real bit that i’d always feared

A scream to a sigh

It’s becoming a mighty landslide

A slip inside

A dash into the shade and light

Like a fine concoction, taking its flight

My vessel, my temple

To the tip of my toes

Rid me of my woes

Plagued my prose

Zero metrical structure, my words fracture

they rupture, they break

Like a new dawn

They shake and jumble

they gargle and mumble

Still drizzling

I lament

Looking into two glass eyes staring back

I don’t want to be seen

One wave short of a shipwreck

One syllable short of a haiku

One penny short of a pound

It’s so far out it’s straight down

It’s tight but loose

Everything must go

Wash lather rinse repeat

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