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    Active 24 Hours
    Active 24 Hours
    Active 24 Hours
    Ebook121 pages48 minutes

    Active 24 Hours

    By Alan Davies

    2.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Poetry.Two bodies. The surety of...gone. Wanderers perfectly sold season. Reading speech thoughts to sleep anger, snap. Let heat be penetrate. The thinking posse, the sleep pose. The few arrows of entreaty are horizontal and viscous. Opposites repel and attract, equals, repel, attract. Allow hand settling tribute, sllit. This dichotomous queue angles, blur one night. Flasking the gunnery in this armament of pacts. Alan Davies is the author of many books of poetry, including NAME (This Press, 1986), ACTIVE 24 HOURS (Roof Books, 1982), RAVE (Roof Books, 1994), CANDOR [a collection of book reports and poems] (O Books, 1990), SIGNAGE [critical theory] (Roof Books, 1987)—and the more recent ODES (Faux Press, 2008), RAW WAR (Subpress, 2012), and ODES & FRAGMENTS (Ellipsis Press, 2013). He is working on a long sequence of Books, an ongoing journal of ideas called This Is Thinking, and an essay exploring war entitled "Why?! PerpetualGenocide." 
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRoof Books
    Release dateJan 1, 1982
    ISBN9780937804117
    Active 24 Hours
    Author

    Alan Davies

    Alan Davies is a self-confessed birding obsessive from North Wales and warden of the RSPB reserve at Conwy. He and his wife dedicated one year of their lives to beating the birder's world record and smashing the seemingly impossible target of 4,000 species in a single calendar year.

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      Book preview

      Active 24 Hours - Alan Davies

      HOURS

      101

      Wind moves the last line.

      Shadows cover the wall together.

      Light coming in meets the horrible action.

      A screwdriver made the smaller letters.

      Fish float in light.

      There was a problem of silence.

      Small patches of sky held the feet.

      A dull beat came here this morning.

      He did not altogether pass the window.

      The sky contains his eagerness.

      Only a number obtains it out of doors.

      The weak point made possible the new glasses.

      Language speaks onto Ontario.

      That is above them.

      The country stay.

      Siamese books comes to the very tiny animal.

      The phone number is now the object and the subject.

      There is a function of depths.

      A highschool bus turns by plane for the hills.

      People get speaking of him.

      The language is lost by fours.

      Sky is loosening.

      Nowhere energy is out of the electricity.

      Trains are thinking.

      Each foil is merely flat.

      Miss Betty speaks to a tongue.

      The insect walk up somewhere over Ohio.

      Smoke is more than yesterday.

      Of thought only this communicate.

      The pen mounts one.

      Tenacious noise smoothes needed.

      The landmark is the days.

      Boots step from two dimensions to three.

      Sleep marks us larger than the room does.

      The scale is sound.

      A terminal falls from the book to the floor.

      There is from the earth to rock.

      Morning comes out.

      The fish is hidden by her colors.

      The magazine is lit with black tonight.

      Each sequence is wind.

      Fruit rest for something else.

      Moons recall attention overnight.

      The three tools are to their throats.

      A very young woman empties rhythmic sense.

      The street is a different color from the coat.

      Green candle stands forward through time.

      The sounds come out of the air.

      A small card breaks together lightly.

      Furniture said he could not read the words.

      The preening of the words was to let them drop singly.

      The tall foliage is all out but one.

      Newer days are a flat disc.

      White verges the thoughts black.

      Whirrings of air are behind three thighs.

      Terse announcements come full of light.

      The quiet under the table circles the set point.

      The urgency is over the stilled audience.

      The kneeling posture brings the one lock.

      The second whitening is his career.

      White separates come and see me.

      The fruits are hard here.

      The least usual of them is ice.

      The three tomes are to the men’s talk.

      Weather is averse to famous children already.

      The paved bricks should telephone Holland.

      Light seethes as you say it does.

      The curtains are in disagreement.

      Dusk is lilting.

      Arms are increased at the furnace level.

      A dancer reads not the way that it is done.

      The words cling still researched.

      Eventually the movement is colorful for adults.

      Stucco is unfounded as yet.

      Chairs lose pleasant music.

      Wavelengths are to hear with.

      The match instantly is a sticker.

      Each key came green on the shore.

      Going nowhere was the book in seven parts.

      The home team loses it to her.

      Sentences of verbiage go to her head and feet.

      The postage becomes something unknown.

      The racks are played too.

      Paper is captains.

      Lungs then go down light off the ocean.

      Chances are his chair.

      The transparent part are not simples, either.

      Awkward signs will kill them.

      Tobacco and logic have power but not here.

      The quiet exterior is flat as hard is sharp.

      Waves of paint drown a light in the trees there.

      The person encounters all cloud.

      The cubes are empty.

      The glass space is a use for proportion.

      A black cylinder thinks of me today too.

      Three yellow objects are across time.

      The remaining whites are good for cows.

      A wanderer is ok.

      The graphite is equipped with pavement.

      Each line goes to where it came from.

      The last one got sick.

      Heidi never is earliest in the counting.

      Water goes in the street to its corner.

      Highways are left to itself.

      It’s been in each pane.

      Some serums are early death.

      The journey is brown and green.

      She contains potential light.

      There is two-thirds full of air.

      Radio waves add up slowly to the place setting.

      The sky is the plate.

      There’s the gulls.

      Cold is largest overnight.

      Candles vibrate equally.

      A good rain comes through the darkness.

      We is inside.

      He lost tasteful for the fourth time.

      The wind is in smoke to the bedding.

      Sergeants salute the presence of tedious waiting.

      Chopin’s etudes are laid over

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