Maurice Scully


that gap that
of what has been
put forth locked

into the anthill
the Normal Routine
carrying yr fleck
in the tunnel you

wake dreaming shock
of his handwriting
a thin slice in time
through a rising

population my dead
friend's handwriting
in the book his book
her book a pale

green light discomfort
in the left she's right
because foot the symm-
etry/dance. food.

shelter. rest. passing
a bookshop on a corner
one night after work

late ochre & grey
in the fog Canal

spotlit on its
plinth in the
window in this
little town

& far away — hey —
the work of a writer
of yr own country
not very much older

than yrself the old
country ti ricordi?
in translation caught
/or hit home as they

say/(this must be)
dense pulse through

the glassy mass
strange faces re-
flected upside-
down in the liquid

in yr cup when a
door slams shut &

                     I was
stirring my coffee
     thinking of that
night years ago

strange con-
certedness of
getting isolated
if that's it if

it's that passive
that concentrated
a little boy's choice
of sweets & beanos

adrift among the rongo-
rongo tablets sift-
ing while but there's
a loose thread in

everything worth
following until
you see someone
else invented

   all the words
  (naked twisted
   scraggly branches)
   but I well went on

inventing in my
head which is one
of my inventions
by the way (who's

winning?) naked|
twisted| scraggly|

& one
slippery in-law in
middle management &
the manipulation

business. for example. more

than equal to the
wily old farmer greatly
relieved when he settled
his affairs for him just

before dieing
massively it must be
said in his own favour.
easily persuaded I

expect. possession.
no/yes twirl about
& (black/white) dance.
next please. thank you.

     & down.

under a bright
            light-cone in
  the dark
            the wires
  the tangles
            the sparks
  the memories
            the patterns
(glint) of
            tiny quick
(blue) flashes
            this must be
(a dab at
            this must be
            buy it
  I do
            in a pronoun

scratching along
with a little pencil
on a ripple of paper
that shivers &

glints there's ground
enough to go around/
twice. & twice again.
a crease on a page.



& dark grey patches
through the branches
one sharp pulse
(pulse) ducks with

puffed up fluttering
feathers on a cobalt
stream pressed hard
& pushed you out the

door life between
the sheets of a 3D
picture-book (dead
decorous & useful)

quits let's commun-
icate then I woke up
works & days
not a word

I think you know
how we want them
to be doesn't she?
us. echo her. snap.

a book a cathach.
little by little.
vertical cliffs
clip in spicules

of is it ice it
must be or wait
gulls? here you are
sir, two beers.

the atmosphere
here is very clear.
shhh dear! he might
hear. oh look there's

    frank eroticism.
         who's he?







immediate concert of
the tools icy fibres
feeling along vulnerable




but do you

                 like their work?

                                           a little-known work


        on paper

                                      is it working?

                           recent work

                                                        re-discovered work

                                                                     early work

                                                                                        late work

                                                                                      2 to the fore//3 step back

collected works

selected works

Water Works

Selected Shorter Masterworks

Hard Work

Minor Work & Major Work

Rather Puzzling Early Work

Men at Work Shovelling Round the Gasworks

Neglected Work & Iron Works

Collected Longer Minor Works

Charity Works & Clockwork

Dock Worker Stockbroker

Heavy Smoker Hard Stoker

Night Work & Light Work

The Works: move over.

at reception
the bundle

thanked her
& took it away

opened it

this story this
is a story a

story this
is the dully

again & again

burn it.

birdsong under a tree.

how many pebbles how much symmetry?
a frame a gasp a knock
a shadow.

shutters open apart across a pool, a plate
of light thicken-

fixed. so. the river the city a curve on a
map in

pocket — move and you blur. move yr
love in time
's little

gullet and — moved — stop. move and you
pause at the top of

whip-tip ready. move and you've been there.
stop. move. stop.

sense room frames fun games and — money. is
that funny? don't