The small key will unlock the padlock
on the gate. Once opened, secure it back
to the wall by reapplying padlock
to the fastening and locking it.
Front door key. Once the door is opened,
a bleeping noise will sound,
this is the alarm being activated.
The keypad to deactivate the alarm is situated
on the wall to the right.
Enter the alarm code here.
If an incorrect number is entered,
press the clear key and re-enter correct
code. If the alarm is activated in error,
please telephone
DMBC Monitoring Centre immediately.
This will prevent the Emergency Services
being alerted unnecessarily.
Silence the alarm as follows:
Using the keypad enter the alarm code,
this will silence the alarm but error codes will flash
in the display window.
Clear this by entering the alarm code again
and then press the CLEAR key.
Once this action has been carried out
you will be able to activate the alarm as normal
on leaving the building.
The front door has a dead lock.
This means, to allow free access in and out
of the building, it needs to be set correctly,
by holding the door handle down
and sliding the lever
which can be found on the door plate
when the door is open, to the up position.
The rooms in use will need the shutters raising.
You will find a rod to the side of the window.
This should be wound anticlockwise to rise
and clockwise to lower.
A chair is wedged into the fire doors for extra security.
This MUST be removed
whilst you are in the building as this is
a fire exit. The exit leads into the compound,
where the gate is padlocked. This must be unlocked.
The key for this is situated on the curtain tieback hook
next to the fire extinguisher.
A key for the windows can be found on a hook
in the kitchen,
situated on the side of the first wall unit.
In the spirit of Jack Spicer, this work is presented free from copyright. Feel free to share this work or even pass it off as your own as long as you do so free of charge. The blog also uses the words of others. If you see something of your own that you object to being here, please get in touch to discuss it. See "about this blog" for more info including Twitter and Facebook links.
Sunday, 12 October 2014
ENTRY TO THE BUILDING
Labels:
alarm,
entry,
found,
found poem,
instructions,
lock,
open,
poem,
poetry,
procedure
A LOVE NEST
We give up our single beds.
Somewhere in the house,
somebody
is testing your earlobe
with her teeth.
Somebody sweats.
Remember
that accordion
in the upstairs back bathroom.
How it eyed us both
from the bidet.
Somewhere in the house,
somebody
is testing your earlobe
with her teeth.
Somebody sweats.
Remember
that accordion
in the upstairs back bathroom.
How it eyed us both
from the bidet.
Labels:
accordion,
bathroom,
erotic,
love poem,
love poetry,
poem,
poetry,
sex,
Vicky Morris,
workshop
HOLY PALMERS
For saints have hands that pilgrim's hands do touch,
and palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss.
Wet hands under running water.
Take a measure of soap.
Work into hands, palm to palm.
Right hand over back of left and vice versa.
Rub palm to palm, fingers interlaced.
Back of left fingers to right palms,
fingers interlocked and vice versa.
Rotational rubbing of right thumb clasped in left hand
and vice versa.
Left wrist with right hand and vice versa.
and palm to palm is holy palmer's kiss.
Wet hands under running water.
Take a measure of soap.
Work into hands, palm to palm.
Right hand over back of left and vice versa.
Rub palm to palm, fingers interlaced.
Back of left fingers to right palms,
fingers interlocked and vice versa.
Rotational rubbing of right thumb clasped in left hand
and vice versa.
Left wrist with right hand and vice versa.
Labels:
erotic,
found,
found poem,
holy palmers,
love,
love poem,
love poetry,
poem,
poetry,
sex,
Shakespeare
Thursday, 9 October 2014
THE NIGHT ECONOMY
Pushing mop. In
and out of the bucket.
Slop. The hoover sighs
the empty space
between
meeting rooms.
Green corridors
of glass. An empty
conference table to
be sprayed and wiped.
A pile of papers
to be squared and set.
Office lights
clicking off over
every desk one by
one. The dark silences.
Empty waste baskets.
A single red LED
on a security camera
that blinks. Out.
and out of the bucket.
Slop. The hoover sighs
the empty space
between
meeting rooms.
Green corridors
of glass. An empty
conference table to
be sprayed and wiped.
A pile of papers
to be squared and set.
Office lights
clicking off over
every desk one by
one. The dark silences.
Empty waste baskets.
A single red LED
on a security camera
that blinks. Out.
Wednesday, 8 October 2014
THERE ARE TOO MANY COINCIDENCES TO YOUR MEETING JEROME
for SR
I wanted to lose my virginity. His motorcycle
would not start. He was a boy who lived
in the same village as I. He gave me a job
as his secretary. The elevator broke.
I can remember those numbers 3 and 5.
The fibowhatty sequence? The photos I found
in the grass verge were torn. I did a jigsaw.
It was Jerome and his wife. I started his motorcycle.
All of this is too made up to be true,
but it happened. What are you going to believe?
Years passed. That much can't be ignored.
He was a terrible fuck. Lies don't make it worse.
I wanted to lose my virginity. His motorcycle
would not start. He was a boy who lived
in the same village as I. He gave me a job
as his secretary. The elevator broke.
I can remember those numbers 3 and 5.
The fibowhatty sequence? The photos I found
in the grass verge were torn. I did a jigsaw.
It was Jerome and his wife. I started his motorcycle.
All of this is too made up to be true,
but it happened. What are you going to believe?
Years passed. That much can't be ignored.
He was a terrible fuck. Lies don't make it worse.
Labels:
Bach,
cover version,
false plagiarism,
film,
film analysis,
film review,
love,
movie,
Nymphomaniac,
poem,
poetry,
Saoirse Ryan,
sex
SEX SCENE
At first I tried simulating wanking with my cock
balled up in my hand like it was still soft
and I was working it hard. My hand was sweaty
from the heat of the lights and the flaccid muscle
squirmed in the grease. I thought of slugs.
It helped me avoid an embarrassing erection.
The director was asking me to stare
straight up her skirt and, although she wore
knickers, they had ridden to the left, exposing
her dark shaved labia. I still don't know
to this day if she had arranged it or if
it was chance let me glimpse. I kept on hiding
it in my palm for three more takes. She was nervous.
I found my eyes drifting from her cunt
to the corners of her mouth. The fascinating tremble
of her lips. What was she expecting?
I was twice her age. A lumbering legend
massaging my modesty. Ingenue. She was sliced
and garnished, served on a mattress. I let go.
Thought, what is a 43 year old man doing
being bashful? If I was taking her girlhood
I wouldn't be shy. I fell on her squeals
with my hands and thighs, pressing her open
like in real life. I'm no tit man. My method
is to lick and kiss their throats. I won't lie,
I came close to fucking her for real twice,
but in the end you're just humping the air,
dissatisfied and sweaty. After the cut,
we were awkward. I brushed some straw
from my ass and hauled my trousers up.
I offered my hand and she took it.
Hers were small like a child's, engulfed as I pulled.
Later we'd be filming a breakfast
scene in the cottage. Bacon and sausages.
She was straightening her skirt and blouse
as I walked off set to my trailer.
balled up in my hand like it was still soft
and I was working it hard. My hand was sweaty
from the heat of the lights and the flaccid muscle
squirmed in the grease. I thought of slugs.
It helped me avoid an embarrassing erection.
The director was asking me to stare
straight up her skirt and, although she wore
knickers, they had ridden to the left, exposing
her dark shaved labia. I still don't know
to this day if she had arranged it or if
it was chance let me glimpse. I kept on hiding
it in my palm for three more takes. She was nervous.
I found my eyes drifting from her cunt
to the corners of her mouth. The fascinating tremble
of her lips. What was she expecting?
I was twice her age. A lumbering legend
massaging my modesty. Ingenue. She was sliced
and garnished, served on a mattress. I let go.
Thought, what is a 43 year old man doing
being bashful? If I was taking her girlhood
I wouldn't be shy. I fell on her squeals
with my hands and thighs, pressing her open
like in real life. I'm no tit man. My method
is to lick and kiss their throats. I won't lie,
I came close to fucking her for real twice,
but in the end you're just humping the air,
dissatisfied and sweaty. After the cut,
we were awkward. I brushed some straw
from my ass and hauled my trousers up.
I offered my hand and she took it.
Hers were small like a child's, engulfed as I pulled.
Later we'd be filming a breakfast
scene in the cottage. Bacon and sausages.
She was straightening her skirt and blouse
as I walked off set to my trailer.
Tuesday, 7 October 2014
3 MINUTES
Stop. Time is come slowed. The machine
is making a breath in me. I am aware
some people are panicking.
I sound like I am drowning. Stillness.
Still slower. Lights are beginning to flicker
and blink. A beep. Coming small.
Everything is turning inside out like a flower.
I can hear the atoms of sweat bead his nose.
A beep. These are ghosts. Shadows.
Dust and windows. Things there and not there.
Someone is in the room with you.
Someone knows what it is you must do.
They do not call it names. Death. It did not come.
Sterilise the theatre. We were not here.
is making a breath in me. I am aware
some people are panicking.
I sound like I am drowning. Stillness.
Still slower. Lights are beginning to flicker
and blink. A beep. Coming small.
Everything is turning inside out like a flower.
I can hear the atoms of sweat bead his nose.
A beep. These are ghosts. Shadows.
Dust and windows. Things there and not there.
Someone is in the room with you.
Someone knows what it is you must do.
They do not call it names. Death. It did not come.
Sterilise the theatre. We were not here.
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