Never again will I bare to see myself hung out on the washing line, folded in halves. Both apathetic, both tired.
Never will I let myself go so far that I end up pegged and rinsed, the dirt remaining on my nicotine skin.
It will happen again of course. It always does. I always run through the machine. Even if i’m okay, I’m still there.
I’m always on spin cycle....
Soft spotlit skin glows in a wee twirl with a gnarled brough
Brush back the buckling rosehip bush and elm branch
Scuffing up shavings of flesh from your forearm
You fear the warm, purple, dawning sun,
furthermore the whispering hedgerows
Through patterned gaps in the trees
you flinch at every harsh beat of sunbeam and heed its heat
having it’s hot way on the apples of your cheeks.
The sun is ...
I am a trinket on your shelf
An inanimate doll added to your collection
But I see you sleep, I too see you sneeze
Collecting your mucus on your bedside table in clumps.
We, the Worry-Dolls, Picture Books, Clay Tea-Pots and the odd nostalgic childhood momentos,
we conspire,
while your closing eyelids tire and oscillate timely each night.
Until that routine time, static is all you see from We.
...
Now I, solomnly sat upon this lifted ray of light
the ants accept me now as never before
steering clear from my body as to not shake me
they know i don’t allign, they sense my specialties shine
cross roads and dark matter
i never crossed that highway
so tell me why i mustn’t die.
uncle up there upon your impish cloud tell me.
if the day must never end, why can’t i chase the sun?
i see my leg...
I had this dumbbell-weight I lifted once.
To relieve my body of its sorry spine,
Hopeful ghosting, un-sent in increments,
Each day successfully passed without a response like a newly blown balloon added to my bucket’s handle,
I take one dose daily.
But every ghost became so somehow.
One week now,
I expected my much needed housekeys,
packaged en-closure.
Prolonged dissonance is a farewell.
All...
Sing my dying dog
Howl for the immortal world
Pant from your dead eyes
Humid breath hitting me fast
Your canine soul ascending
You still feel so young
Tiny paws pitter patting
Now limp in my palm
I’ll ferment with you, here, Dog
While we are above the soil
I’ll buy us a bed
One final furr to face nap
Oh my girl - so dead
Someone get my iron gun
I can’t leave you alone, run
Till stars l...
Too loud in this town,
that holds a gold crown it's foamy thunder-head.
A spinning halo spanning the stout skyline;
Standstill.
Five fingers deep in the North Sea I plunge.
As it soaks my seaweed seemed gloves,
foreignly wired eyes spark ill-interest on my absurd ways.
The wild pidgeons here tweet that I harbour street cred
while their iridescent necks bob back and forth
Their requite liquida...
