Beneath Space
Beneath Space (Numerous LEDs in a Republic)
Translated from Tim Allen’s Over Time (One Lamp in The Kingdom)
Numerous LEDs in a republic
There is a republic of numerous LEDs
Numerous grasses in a republic
There is a public of numbered grasses
Numerous autumns in urban sprawl
There is a republic of numinous burdens
Numerous teeth in a republic
There is a republic of masculine blackout
Numerous renderings of a loyalist
There is a republic of thoughts
Numerous knuckles in a central trade
There is a republic of pruned willows
Numerous locations of imminence
There is a house of tower senators
Numerous spangles on a banner
There is a harbour of feminine permanence
Numerous twigs in a hedge
There is a republic of what is gone
Numerous calendars in a republic
There is a future for never
Numerous games in a prose-epoch
There is a flush-red public
Numerous ploughmen in electric chairs
There is a republic of school masks
Numerous silent personalities in a desert
It is the president’s trapped sunk action
Numerous pay-day crowds inside cinemas
They are in violently folding land
Numerous soap emotions but too few
In a republic of old powder
Numinous is always too much
There is a nearest of republics
Where yes is hushing peace
No one owns their peaceful ignorance
Where yes persuades presences
In a city of parched allotments
Where yes bog-standardises biology labs
In a republic of ellipses
A republic of a dead numerous
Often inside an opaque light
Hearing a sign of dust
Still as a twig
Still as an LED
In a republic of numerous facts
In a republic of numerous data
A half-wombed woman is royal
Numerous TVs in a republic
There is a republic of numerous vices
Numerous realised insubstantialities
Released from syringes
Numerous manuscripts in mangers
There is a republic of dried-milk
A senator in a panoptican’s centre
Was once a senator for a free nation
The ancient flavour suddenly come upon
The disgust
Heaped vertices in a civil order
There is a republic of civil orders
The disgust at trousers of mould
Outside the portico as old as autumn
Numerous levels in a republic
There is a republic of numerous levels
And possessed shells
Boring big news
The printed-text version of this poem was first published
(around 2004/2005) in the literary magazine Tremblestone,
edited by Plymouth-based poet Kenny Knight.
with special thanks to Kenny Knight & Tremblestone, Beneath Space photo by Nikki Clayton
Coil Evolving A
Coil Evolver photo: Mark Goodwin
Mark Goodwin is a poet-sound-artist who makes sound-enhanced poems using field-recordings and digital software. He curated, with Longbarrow Press, Poems, Places & Soundscapes – an international exhibition of digitally produced sound-&-poetry focusing on place and soundscape (April 2014). Mark tweets poems from here, and will go on doing so in to an un for see able future.
featured image: from aoueiai by Mark Goodwin, released July 17, 2017
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