Wednesday, 22 June 2016

Jail and Gaol or Jail or Gaol



“La femme qui pleure avec mouchoir” (Weeping Woman with Handkerchief) by Pablo Picasso (1937)


Clumsy hands carry labour of distribution, the verbal invitation of an unsuspecting party
Framed by quotation marks
The relevant connotations of fun
Met at the car park of a four and a half stars hotel, half short
One spoils the broth
With suggestions of alternative
The need of which is scorned
By wild dogs
Reinforced with a dirty warm light, built enough corners for one per party guest
Trapping mood swings for conversation foliage
A fern spills over the balcony

Implicit tension making itself explicit through silence
Music upstairs
As you’re sitting on someone on the striped sofa, a stain provokes disgust as a stain should
Marinate in history
An odour creeps in from under the glass door
Revealing itself an incompetent barrier
Dumb door
Dumb people
Dumb party
The qualifiers of any deal, quoted by asterisks
As they do as you did when you verbally summoned your guests

Recall yourself opening doors for strangers and pouring enthusiastically, unclassified wine
For an atmosphere’s sake
Some parties are disastrous
By default
Conjure the flashbacks of ordering fast food
The infliction of decoration on walls, cellophane paper disposed to enforce an illusion
Of celebration
Baking cakes with overdue batter
Testing tongues
Rendering victims with false hope
How you fed them the tattered portions of popcorn chicken