It is not that we do not remember
the blood and snap of tendons
loud as gunshots.
The jaw working loose like a monkey wrench.
And familiar last words.
It is not that we have forgotton
the mouth crushed like a lily
reeking of blood and vinegar.
In fact our bread has the pallor of ash
And our waters still taste of blood.

Plebes the Phoenician a long time dead
tested the waters with an eroded digital.
He read the bones of Man and beast
shifting on the ocean floor
so turning on his side
he returned to sleep.


Corporate Ladder

The air is thin here
thin as arrowroot.

No one answers by name
strange codes exist, semantics is a weapon
and meanings are shuffled by the minute.

A square has many angles
straight lines always meet at infinity.

Talent is a taxi cab
and necrosis is contagious.

All to one end:
A lead role in a corporate pantomime.

You can be:
A fierce but lisping despot;
A mad marshmallow;

A commde
A yardstick that grows like a penis;
Or any exciting orifice that works for you;

Mother Teresa;
The Fort Knox;
Orb the holy Roman Pontiff;

A demon with his sexual organ for a mouth;
An incubator?;
Or a housefly.

Until the final curtain fall.
Then “fade to black“.

Last Train

I am the pulse of this evening city
indicated in red.

I read like a cipher: destination DN.
I brighten as i leave

connecting cities and people
who mean nothing to me.

I am the last commuter after midnight
masturbating in an empty brake’
amidst the stench of damaged vegetables
and accidental fish.

I am the oscillating fan en-caged in black
someone switches me on
I do not respond.

I am the lone signal
with one eye wounded.

I am the last train after mid-night
always indicated, i seldom arrive.

I am the final passenger
wrapped up in a shawl

blurt your finger at me
And I fall.

26 September, 1969

here’s a new sky blunt with implications.
Even the clouds have been drawn back to reveal.
The road is lost between deadpan hills
and the sign board squeaks on a flat note.
Now, i have discarded my sandals
and made myself at home in the dust.

neither thou or i knowest what we do
yet in your infinite wisdom
you give me a crutch?

Synonym – 1

Time has altered the rafters of this house.
The teak has lost its marrow and walls have varicosed.
As a boy I used to play on a rope swing,
strung from the door frame of this house.
Then the world jived and met me in one mad cap dash.

Things have slowed down a bit now.
The swing has lost its momentum
And the door frame leans heavily to the side.
Soon the wrecker will arrive
And blow by deliberate blow
Penalise brick, wood and stone
Into their elements.

Inside my head

I cannot get out of my head
I never will until I’m dead
I live inside with waves of fear
I see no one ‘cause there’s no one here.

I am not him, I am not she
Inside my head I’m not even me
Outside my head I’m not so sure
I just can’t take this anymore.

In my head are little niches
It’s where i hold my sanity with stiches
I see no window, I see no door
Just a blade of light where the darkness hitches.

Who am I and who are you
Everyday I’m someone new
I’ve got to try and stay the same
No matter what my real name.

Sweet jesus, get me outta here
You know my every smallest fear
I’m afraid to live, I’m afraid to die
So be a pal, don’t let me fry.

I know one day I’ll just slip out
Without a word without a shout
Maybe I’ll see the frigging light
And then there’ll be no left or right.