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That would be good
Like Burt Reynolds beating the shit out of someone
With strings and sunlight and Lauren Hutton afterwards
Glass of wine and a sports car
Some stale love song

In reeking swirls of syntax and poetry
With the rise and rhythm of a symphony
Everything applauded
Rewarded
With grace and favour of the world

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if you were summer
in the autumn
you would be as sweet
with beads of winter on your brow
and snow fall at your feet

From Television/2

I have seen whale-sharks taking krill

In great swirls of ocean splendour

Settled with dust of newborn planets

And have not moved a muscle

Only finger lifted

Sat in silence staring

At something I forgot

I have touched a ring of flowers held by morning

Drunk the soft curves of her neck

The way an insect moves a meadow

The way a summer slips through grass

Alone in this circuitry and light

Through fractured trees leaving voices

On a flickering wave of static

In a radio dream of silence

From Television/

A horse staring at a camera

And through technology staring at me

In glassy blackness

Hanging telephone awareness

Where blind men speak the secret stars

This strange connect so mute and stupid

Windows windows into nothing

A reminder from our sponsors

To tell me who I am

More often than my family

For a fraction of the cost

While Crazy Bob’s gone mad on prices

And we are not at War

And we are not at War

In seconds of television

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Neon paints a sunset

So soft to trick the eye

These are the fleeting faces

You see before you die

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Talking in your sleep

Is my favourite time of all

Through a window of words

Into the tick-and-tock of your soul

A glimpse of us as glorious

Mad and bright as winter stars

Sung from heavens corner

And darkest of all for mine