Chris Gutkind

from Digits After Orph

1꞉3 Songs can do, how does flesh follow/turn code? Dry me split you, load my lazy heart to go on/in. Make consumption flower wishing, yes we can. Be memory tomorrow. Maybe desire converts, urgent done techly, exposed catching/selling me in chips and drive, loving/losing in metal nows. Desire can't everything. Easy for some to copy. And if I end being outer or nearly/what of skin? Sure there's stars oceans street and wind there somehow feeling. What of smell? I'm oldtiming, as going things/using hands and eyes your's too. Pick second life, forget my body it goes anyway. Living is what stays when we leave. Be Exxons. The time worth eating gets made with likelands. 1꞉4 Selfers and spyers we're the natural.goo ones, following myselves in skinless accounts or you, speedysum, loaded up/down, my diced senses, joining as an URL who hardly feels the lessing. You rushy, unbreathing air, webworkhome'd, fervent belongy, it's our map in your picface! Who knows how to last there? I do, don't you? Smile then, I won't see. I'll sad, you won't see. Who wants to suffer? If you want to stay back. Everything be like like. My bodyweight going with ice and oil, gone in your ground dreams. What's a tree? Or profiles you wage in ourself and blogged to. Go inside them, that's a start. It's cosy there. Screw Earth. It'll repair itself. 1꞉3 [reverst] The time worth eating gets made with/like lands. Living is what? Stays when we leave be? Exxon's pick second life, forget my body, it goes anyway as going: things using hands and eyes, your's too somehow, feeling what? Of smell I'm old timing. Sure there's stars oceans street and wind? There and if I, endbeing, outer or nearly what of? Skin desire? Can't everything easy! For some to copy in chips and drive loving! Losing in metal, now's urgent done techly, exposed catching, selling me be-memory! Tomorrow may be desire! Converts make consumption flower, wishing yes! We can dry me split, you load my lazy heart. To go on in songs can do/how does flesh? Follow Turncode! 1꞉4 [reverst] It's cosy there, screw Earth, it'll repair itself and blog. To leave/inside them – that's a start! What's a tree or profiles? You wage in ourself with ice, and oil gone in, your ground dreams everything. Be like, like my bodyweight. Going? Who wants to. Suffer? If you want to stay back- smile then, I won't. See, I'll sad you, won't see who knows. How to last? There I do/don't! You fervent, belongy its our map, in your picface! You rushy unbreathing/airweb, workhome'd, joining as an URL. Who hardly feels the lessing speedysum? Loaded up, down my diced senses following myselves. In skinless accounts or you selfers and spyers, we're the natural gooones!
Chris Gutkind grew up mostly in Montreal and has lived in London for decades. He has had three books out, including Inside to Outside from Shearsman and Options (with artist Trevor Simmons) from Knives Forks Spoons. He writes: "About this sequence there's much to say but essentially it is gridded atop Rilke's Sonnets to Orpheus but while that sequence is one of presence, and I'm very fond of it, mine is one of absence more or less and, sadly, kinda dystopic."    
previous page     contents     next page


Post a Comment

<< Home