1. |
And On The Heath
13:36
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it’s bound to fail
this impossible landscape
it’s over there
always the past
out of place
and out of time
we can’t observe
the boundless heath
all we do is
point to things
the heater’s on
the windows are thin
I’m trying hard to
to keep this warmth in
smile with us
in the morning
the best music
we play it all for you
again the same car
driving more slowly
and other traffic
moves toward camera
before indicating
taking left turn
stationary cars
pedestrians
all grey up on
the black heath
low edge of cloud
shallow depth of field
forms rectangular
metallic sky
green underneath
and seen between
oblique squinting
ochre sunlight
dull glow diffuse
overcast
and on the heath
sirens, police
crows, ducks, and geese
a Tuesday in
the afternoon
up on the heath
early winter
crisp and chill
mounds in circles
bus rattles past
sirens and geese
crows and police
mind how you go
raven or crow
light on a branch
skeletal tree
on Whitefield Mound
birch, fir and gorse
camera pan
speeding van
rain falls in grey
far away
back on the heath
I try to write
the sense of site
invoke the place
the here and now and
back in time
in 88 or 73 or 99
it’s bound to fail
this impossible landscape
it’s over there
always the past
out of place
and out of time
we can’t observe
the boundless heath
all we do is
point to things
it’s bound to fail
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2. |
Crossfields
04:00
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3. |
Even on a Wednesday
04:47
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time here in the front room
at the zero hour
in an extension
of the vertical time
everyday is Wednesday
even on a Wednesday
it’s all happening
on unrecorded time
and when the ticking clock
comes to a stop
dickory dock
just in time
floating in the front room
surrender to the day
bare consciousness
in unencoded time
drifting through a Wednesday
then another Wednesday
at the centre
vertical time
one hundred miles from here
earlier than now
listening to the
space of time
one two three four five six
lasting through the front room
everyday is Wednesday
seven eight nine ten
ten seconds from the bedroom
even on a Wednesday
conscious in the kitchen
bounded at the front door
extensive duration
flowing across
it’s all happening
out of time
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4. |
Private Ambulance
12:00
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counting breaths
six seven eight
nine and ten
isolate
other people
marking place
avoiding contact
supplanting space
minutes hours
days and weeks
boundary situation
minutes hours
days and weeks
quarantine an abject nation
close to far
and vice versa
about the chest
in the tightness
outside inside
inside out
touch the handle
touch the phone
minutes hours
days and weeks
boundary situation
minutes hours
days and weeks
quarantine an abstract nation
words and language
pass too close
oral transmission
round the corner
stepping back
a cough too close
a sneeze too far
minutes hours
days and weeks
boundary situation
minutes hours
days and weeks
quarantine an abstract notion
if I can smell you
you’re too close
sweat, perfume,
vape or spliff
fabric softener
detergent
cigarette
you’re too close
minutes hours
days and weeks
boundary situation
minutes hours
days and weeks
quarantine an abstract notion
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5. |
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all living can anyone be here
a woman who
abruptly faced
acute mania
all looked away
and he sells
anti-depressants
as anxiety levels
anxious withdrawn
apologise
appreciate
and I write
being released
benefits cut
blinkers her
blood trickling down
on childhood happiness
closer to home
the daily torment
the data decline
the days are too long
death syndrome
depression bullying
died of starvation
early in the morning
fake fur lined
end of the street
every day
every other day
find this very hard
feed herself
heat the place
hope I’ll be OK
a horror film
how will I cope
hypnotics
I try to note
in a dark place
horror film
in his sixties
insomnia
it gets worse
leaving her house
less secure
living in a car
lost all hope
mascara tears
meds for anxiety
mental health
mostly stay shut
near a heating vent
observation
on Creek Road
open curtains
overwhelmed
on the tube
read this letter
read on Twitter
she couldn’t turn
smartly dressed
starved to death
so hungry
social network
someone had written
spare any change
sudden arrhythmic
taking the time
thanks to you
the people
rest of my life
under a bridge
walks slowly
welfare support
there was a man
washed in a puddle
I wrote to her
yesterday
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Steven Ball London, UK
Steven Ball has been working as an artist since the early 1980s, in film, video, sound, installation, and performance, and has been a member of the post-punk DIY group Storm Bugs. In 2014 he started writing and recording songs as a solo project, being particularly concerned with experimenting with which kinds of texts might constitute a song lyric. ... more
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