Thursday, 27 June 2013


The last lump of you still beating
                                         clinging to the bone 
                                                       of the slow 
cooked meat flaking wetly away
                              the wet flesh/
                                          dust of dead fish 

swimming off with the brines 
                                     currents through 
                                             the last blue dawn
to the black cold bottom 
to the heady pressure 
 of the sea trench: 
the finger pulled fissurs in the earths crust 
                                                             and then lay down

after three minutes 
where I didn't think at all
only shouted out;

"blood cracked skull! I wanted you for a side car to ride through the world of new adventures to find the last slip of unmapped land and comment on the worth of its fine green tree and its unturned rock, 
I wanted you to play the first ever original song on the last untunable piano, while I danced and drank and sang, I wanted you to convince me of the value of religion, to value my redemption enough to convince yourself of it and redeem the both of us, I wanted you to sink into my cold skin and embue me with the warmth of your heart, 
I wanted all of that, 
for a start." 

inner circle

stop clipping the corners off,
the centre is getting smaller,
more and more finite, graphite
shuddering off its skins,
the triangles aren't amounting,
nor are they leaving an impression.

you are just running out of corners,
you are creating a smooth surface,
but its all ripples and missed cuts,
slashed sides narrow open,
barely a wink left in you.

Stop clipping the corners off,
you are sending your self to sleep,
letting all the blood fall
that you really need to keep.

You can not shed skin like a snake,
there will be vigils in your wake,
there will be sad sighs
 after each scissor wound

and after each connection that you break.

and after each call that you drop.

and again after each number that you block
or that you don't bring forward
to your shiny new phone,
as you try so desperately,
to be left alone.


armfuls and armfuls

1. um thanks

2. I don't need them anymore, you can keep them

1. oh, yea great

2. you can make lemonade with them

1. yeah I guess I can

2. you could make lemon cake with them

1. I guess I could

2. you could juice them into the eyes of your enemies

1. I try really hard not to have enemies

2. you could give lemons to people who are close to becoming your enemies

1. like who?