..a miniature sci-fi paranoia poem?

portrait of the fourth incarnation of BBC 1's Doctor Who (played by the great British actor Tom Baker).


TELKOM - the earth we seek is a vast automative network. curled world
government? all is
possible in the mutually conclusive exchange of steel wire coda. rank-n-sperm -
barclay's bank -
summer computer ode. Telkom - cellephonic music - the sun we know is riven with
cogs and
crossing metric splinters. Mercury? on the planet three minds removed from the
creative mania is merely a metal machination. DylAN ThomAs was clearly a 

robotic, alcoholic
extra-space-seeker, (or was he simply DAVIE STARR-HOUSE?!)

the machine under umber is solid core coda metal. the mental scent of the
pinpoint fuel,
rocketted into solder, must prove each word of god, dead, cold, cruel as the
bible in
the mouth of the bank-teller's whisper. machination shall prove auto-motion long
post-real-intuition has entered in to shape the words of the spatial scientist.
the machine
under umber is solid core coda metal, the mental scent of the sun in the
neurofoils of
fusion, rocketted to telephonic zero, eternally.


COMMUNIKATION is the be all and end all of all iron fission. nuclear science
make good of its eternal love for earth-change; to too must the wicked wires
of this long dead world rake away woman of metal to prove summer spatience as
red as the steel winter that follows. COMMUNIKATION is not communicado;
rather, it is light moving beyond itself, through permanent relative whispers.
travel man seeks devolves to no true phone-leak, nor does it rely on the laws of

culpability for the way in which it moves to achieve absolution. the ape in the
cage of death is merely vivisected for the truths of neuronic destutution. was
wordsworth the master of computer devastation? doubtless, since no man can
achieve his innate designs on nothingness.

man shall achieve his wire rocket in order to make good. space shall receive its

semi-comal science in order to prove space travel dead. one day, there shall
be nothing except the wire rocket of past spatial excavation. one day, woman
shall entreat a denial of blackholes, shall topple space enhearsion for a purely

art-devised kind of space exploration. man shall make his wire rocket in order
to make space good. the result can only be spatial peace, for the wire-cage
of living shall henceforth denude space in favour of an artisan's world.
all space is cut into spatial sections. space 1, space 2, space 3 to 76, and on.

all planetary realities rely on this sectionism for the quintessence of their
evidential creation. there are no constellations minus spatial sectionism.
cannot preach space travel without the whims of space 1, space 2, space 3 to
nth billion. one day, space shall denude sectionism in favour of a fused
rocketism shall find no planetary realities, only the waste and the shame of
spatial apartheid.

this is the spatial year of IG. this is the spatial year of IG. i hear it on the
i hear it all the time. ba'ith movement? spatial IG. Mahesh movement? spatial
I hear ten songs that cannot exist. I hear twelve years that cannot live. this
is the
spatial year of IG. this is the spatial telephone. i hear it on the radio, i
hear it
all tne time. rajneesh network? spatial IG. children of buddha? spatial IG. i
twelve words that nobody knows. i read a book that cannot be. pick up monroe's
phone, tell the stars, and folks might hear. spatial IG? Jim Mansun. spatial IG?

gareth skies. spatial IG? thomas tinderbox. spatial IG? HIV. spatial IG? charlie

roe. spatial IG? independent anarchy. if you pick up the phone, surely death
follow. radio 4 says so; so do all the people. as does Dr Who?


jdb 1993


 jim does not watch dr who anymore.

 jim completely despised Sylvester McCoys Dr Whos.