March # 3 / Lawrence Upton

Voice 1: Tea and biscuits with a complete idiot!

Voice 2 & Voice 1 simultaneously:

Voice 3: I start defining myself, screaming, defining what I am supposed to get drawn into.

Voice 1: Distracted. Therefore, derision. An incapacity to perceive respect and concern.

Voice 2: Respect and concern is the primary colonisation.

Voice 1: I shall kill you; it can only be deferred.

Voice 4: Waning interest -

Voice 1: Sad vessel, misunderstanding -

Voice 2: Brisk sovereignty

Voice 3: Possible uncertainty concertina, before interiority.

Voice 5: As to narratives, an astonishingly muddled list of events would take her fancy.

Voice 1: But my delicacy towards your bullet dissolves. My perfect moon.

Voice 5: Section Two. Fact disappearing in a brief slightly humorous raid. Best wishes and resist the police. Flawed in speech. Flawed world. Burnt flesh. Fields of stone.

Voice 4: Gulf War Sexuality in the laurels of the day.

Voice 2: Easily here! spring organs of their human bodies, not leaving out such a sky.

Voice 1: You are easily traced.

Voice 2 & Voice 1 simultaneously:

Voice 2: Or I can be irritating.

Voice 1: But anywhere else, in the hands of the language, how it attempts to get drawn into protected persons, in tears, to stop the ache.

Voice 2: Said to be.

Voice 1: My delicacy towards your bad manners is the parasite exit.

Voice 4: Gentile disbursement extra. Licence -

Voice 5: Roundness? what she says is this...

Voice 1: Soon. Crack. A sky stitched up by geography.

Voice 5: In the challenge around gender.

Voice 3: Provided with maidens?

Voice 5: Tracing nudes.

Voice 1: Roles are, no sauce. That loss of ache of loss. Cleave. Retribution for a globe in scaffolds.

Voice 5: Sobriety velvet, flattering world opinion. Her fancy... I begin again, evoking doors. A phone -

Voice 1: Pragmatists like the hands of annihilation. Either I can tell... In the

Voice 2: Doll. Dump that heaving smile. I can tell.

Voice 3: Thinking of you. Break. Therefore, in opposition to following wind, I think.

Voice 1: I think language is not reciprocated.

Voice 2: Spring. Bodiless on my screen. I feel nothing. I will kill. Nothing..

Voice 1: But my delicacy towards your bad manners is what little freedom we do like.

Voice 4: All the doors phone. Light dissolves me. I think, all around myself. I will kill. I will have justice. That pain of sunshine.

Voice 5: I was wondering if I can pressure, a figurative justification for extremely obvious mistakes. Sugars ahead.

Voice 1: I shall kill.

Voice 4: In respect of a war this won't be construed as sunshine. We in flawed speech. Such a globe in flawed speech. I shall live a while longer. Forget this. Expunge the obvious phenomenon. Be content!

Voice 3: Violent torn hands. Verb forms.

Voice 1: Quick tide urge barricade.

Voice 5: Deleted narratives -

Voice 3: Some are clearly expressive, as a figurative justification for wonderful reading.

Voice 5: Splinter.

Voice 4: Wondering, one losing his moods. Out of the forms. A missile of communication. That twinge of derision. Crack. Your ghost dissolves my behaviour, thinking of you. A command of the doors. And such a relief. And memory, to maintain death, is English, offensively.

Voice 1: Resistance to calamity; I shall live.

Voice 2: Bodiless remains.

Voice 1: I could break your... bones.

Voice 2: The memorialising of obvious phenomena, really may turn out to be complaisant.

Voice 1: One losing his moods.

Voice 4: This has been obvious mistakes. Foretelling and prior imaging. I shall kill them all...

Voice 3: Followed stream... ash...

Voice 5: Loss slang.

Voice 4: Sack a sky! Current terror as a smile. An assassination attempt on my resistance to rob them.