london pills

Running London, High crazed, racy near kings cross going to sundaze, looking for ecstasy near the underground, stoned folks appear like angels (MEGAWHITE thing) and give me a pair for three quid each, irish drawl, run into the store, get cubas with bliss, enter, the guard tears me dow,n this black linebacker type he scares me i give him my pills but i get in i dance around italian dopefiends and techno divas, electro cute girls as lazarus cuts the beats, and the sun for london is godly an drink some more buy some more from this italian sunglassed guy, Fabrizzio, dance near fucking lovely girls in fashion dresses bending on rave, im on, getting stoned my face is bliss ive never been happier im from hackney, the blue sky like a tattoo in my soul, sunset dawns, draws colors in space i can see more with my eyes close, minimal going into progressive tech, i meet this girl from spain, faintly catala, with sapphire eyes, we dance, i lie to her, i hook her up, she doesn´t know ive taken three pills, she thinks this is how iam, a happy, confident beautiful guy, just there dancing coordinately, harps of our aura, i will later fuck her near jamaica street, make love and sleep in the bus, in a strange bed with white walls, i will fall in love with her for two day after this and later i will only see her through facebook, never again on flesh, Natalia Rivera. river nata, i told her i was from a strange latin american country, i told her i was a journalist, im a pillhead, sometimes i can scrawl paradise, sometimes im nice. going back in the metro i sing with bliss this hackney wild song about crack and english gardens that is an invitation to girls to come to my house and people genuinely smile at me, like when drunk isnt stupid or nagging but almost careless divinity. i sleep for three days after seven pills and a fucking mad weekend. godspeed, save the light. love you mates.

Vislumbres de Oaxtepec

una carretera y las líneas blancas de tetris en el concreto

y esos tippies amarillos abandonados en las praderas

onirizadas por la mirada de los niños en la ventanas

y yo estoy ahí donde se pierde una montaña

en un galope sensible al verde

ahí donde deja el alma el niño

pequeño jetlag del jetta

feliz juego índigo

que se funde como el cristal en el río.

Alice through the wormhole

one two three four:______________
Alice is in her wormhole warm and bright
Alice is my bride
as I walked through the path
i was seeing spiral clams
being deflowered
down into the ground
there was a dragon pushing dope
burning with music was Babylon don
i was in the bowels fumbling
but she led me through the phantoms
that grew out of my gazes:grass of lions
with a shell in my hand she held me past
the Wasteland that follows every hope image or flower
the blood and the mire of human ties
dark magnetricks
matrix of dreams illusion beams
Alice is my bride,
and all is right in the shadows
all is hole all is holy all is hologrammmmmmmmm

The only dream

I’ve only had one dream in all these months: i was sleeping and a voice from oversoul said “this is the only dream you will have until you leave your job” . Thats all, a crystal clear voice in the dark, unflinching. I don´t remember anything else since I started working in this fucking corporation.

hearing burial (untrue 2007, hyperdub)

the gloom looming everywhere, a giant gray ghost drooping over things just to blow its perfume, the arms of the bamboo wither inveterate and the ground is cold. sunday says this things. wondering what is the attraction of modern-consumer melancholy. buganvilias hanging haphazard from the lack-luster walls still enter my body, as the gleam nuance remains of the dusky overture of day. synthetizers instead of cellos, chalking with atmos loitering in trashed streets wrapping the sky with a velcro silver gauze. gasp and tomorrow work. waiting for something better and almost (but never quite) pushing through the chemical limit of forcing fire to turn inside out -my spirit in the street.

Log in to my eyes
password email in the stars
this little ad i put into d clouds
tagging dreams like flickrstreams
where we could meet avatars
cybynight cybynight satellite of sites
touching screen touching spring
( i'll be your mirror)
an url kiss an url rendezvous
hitting click at equinox code bijouxs
code-light, code gallant
come to my site
and toggle my soul
(digital blue over your lap) top
pop garden of data sap
transfering tru mediafire
P2P, unzip my files: the arms i reach
the silence i cannot keep
the sweet telepathy
like an octopus in the sea
that speaks with his body
and wears his mind in his skin
read my source code
the colors in between the scripts<<<
the programmer as a hint, slips
icecream fractals flash>>> this time
not in the screen but inside your eyes
log into me, i am a vortex of dreams
navel click, touch or lick these datalips,
your computer is cupid
use your keys to open this virus
unafraid of what i'll take
information wants to wake
and i want to wake with you
in the dawn of the machines.