27/06/2016

Lurch, it says, to the right. Says, rightwards, lurch.
A brick through every window, rightwardly.
A lurch in the “it says”, it says so, right
here, and irreversibly the lurch
bricks up the windows, sets the world to right
by default, lurching lurching into lurch
as if by ageless right, as if the windows
were ever brick, and never broken so
it says; and you unlurching in the building,
you in your unrighted world, unsaid
in the “it says”, you say not so, you window
waiting for the brick, you ward of right:
stay broken, keep the building, hold it open;
unset the right world, unsay what it says.

The Conjuring 2: The Harry Enfield Case

[The 1970s. Everything is a bit grey and depressing, like we are in a David Peace novel or something. We are in a house, which is grimy]
Sally Hawkins: Gor blimey guvnor it is cold in ‘ere.
Teenage daughter: I am unbelievably premenstrual right now.
[Things fly around and break]
Teenage daughter (gruffly): My name…is Albert Steptoe.
BBC-voiced man: Blimey.
The Warrens: Oh hi. We are paragons of heterosexuality, plus a bit psychic. Our teeth are nice, aren’t they? Not like your British teeth.
Spooky Albert Steptoe: Grrr!
[Things fly around and break]
Male Warren: Expelliamus!
Nun with bad teeth: No, really, grrr.
Female Warren: Your name gives me dominion over you, ZIZEK. Return to hell!
Audience: aaargh. No, really.