Jackson

The photographs are silent. That’s the thing about them. The silence. Yet you can hear them if you listen late at night with the house all quiet if you listen in the blackness when the band’s gone home if you listen in the breaks between transmissions you’ll hear them. Light is nothing. Potential. Imaginary lines… Read more

Insert your tongue between my lips Let me feel its small raspy tip on the tip of mine Shove it repeatedly into my mouth Until my nipples are like small lighthouses screaming your name Until my cunt is bursting and weeping with wanting you What is it I want? What? Put your words in my… Read more

I love it when you dress in rags. The ragged edges show how whole the centre is. When you dance in your old clothes simpler than today’s clothes your powerful body shows me the child inside. We are just children wearing layers. Dress in rags. Show me a bit of your skin, and if your… Read more

Thunderheart Orange beanie, big white beard, green blanket, old jeans, grey socks, sandals. Voice like a black leather jacket. Zoe Nineteen, thin, pale skin, blonde brows, blonde lashes, long blonde hair, long old-black coat … Voice like a tall ship, like a building, lived-in … borrowed? Read more

To say it without saying. To finally say it. As no-one ever has. This is a new book. To get the words down as they come to me, the connections as they come to me, the pictures as they come to me, from wherever they come. To make it without making it. Not to create—it… Read more

She heat, I light she flower, I leaf she burning fusion sun, I yearning captive moon she reef of bright fish, I rock of one white bird Together: all of it One day a month we get together, in our careful hair she with henna, I with bleach she in makeup, I bareface she in… Read more