a white butterfly of vanilla lies,
flew past me, flutter, flutter, flutter-byes.
take me, let me, on your back i lay.
past winds up high, sarosan greys.
black stem reaches, upon old clouds.
i feel dew, that isn't yet, but will be.
back seat to time, toes stretched touching present.

Read over this like grease flows,
over uncaring grasps on cooked meat.

care like the beep does,
of the reversing tanker lorry-load.

catch me like the net does,
those stray weeds amongst the valued fish.

kill me like the bomb does,
the weeds by the earth blown for mines.

the mind is arched.
heavy and aching.
flickers of light.
they cut the black.
lucky reflections from the surface.
a smile is given at times.

ode to an audience

you wait for release of some text to read,
Some paint on canvas to sit and watch,
A video to play with popcorn to eat
Or some space to wander with a date to impress,
But have a thought for the artist true
For we are all simply mad,
Escaping your zoo.

............................................................

In that weak place,
between an old love and unreachable solace.
The voice sings and screams and pulls at strings.
And the hand wants to write the whole heart on sheets to set alight.
But the heart wants to guard the pity, its currency.
So the mind struggles through it’s rising shards of madness,
It will fight
And battles may be won
But the war leaves scars of dried paths,
And they cannot be walked again,
Only watched
As you pass by

so there i was,
with the perfect song
for my lover, my life, my soul.
it talked of all,
the times of old,
but who would i send it to?

life support,
half price today,
inside the daily mail.

.......Sunday Mundane Tuesdays.......

what i would do with mondays,
is grab them by the neck,
wrap them round a burning stake,
and feed them to the snakes.

but then what of tuesdays?
they would then begin the week,
so replace the crown,
of the monday frown,
and shoot to kill the freak.

............. lupita ...........

that yellow never went,
sitting sturdy.
upon the skin,
just next to nail,
from the nicotine trail.

and the saliva crust,
upon the corner
of those once kissed lips
the butcher's daughter,
Lupita.

la verdad se seca

conmigo te casarias,
si estuviero casado ya,
dentro mares ondos,
azules y sabrosos,
me tiro,
sin lagrimas del rio,
ni el barrio,
tristeza en bolsas del mercadillo,
para el grifo,
que se seca la verdad.

"You're an empire now, but when we act, we'll ressurect our own reality. And while you're crushing that reality -- desperately, as you will -- we'll act again, creating other new realities, which you can crush too, and that's how things will sort out. We're history's creators . . . and you, all of you, will be left to just watch what we do."

.......Undercover Carbon Footprint.......

.......Mr. Mismatch.......

Mr. Mismatch,
why is your tie so black?
your socks so blue,
your glasses cracked?

Take me home to your expanding,
it doesn't stop for nothing no more,
you doubled into your own caricature,
we got the you by the tail of truth,
and the new by the nose of it's youth.

.......She Country.......

Don't you know?
the walking dead don't smell the hoe.
she's sneaky like that,
smiles from head to toe.
she goes sometimes,
to far away lands,
of far away times,
but she knows.
her history is here to stay,
burnt into every flag that waves to the day,
union jack of united cellar souls,
rotten water holes,
Iraqi deathcamp Idahoes,
they shake the hands of fellow foes,
feeling guilty sweat on palms,
that grab for every bit of life and home.
It's gone my friends,
the big bad wolf blew it down.

.......Between Skin and Bone.......

smoke rings round the lips of velvet,
romantic mimetic,
infinite.
don't lose your place.
you got that space in the vein of pumping love,
leave now, but circle the flesh,
pull the graft of skinless death,
burn the path for glory's sake,
he misses that place of bedded grace,
between the bone and muscle grip.
the one is all,
but sole in shackled shells of coal,
burnt for the black smoke twirl,
twisting our souls into peace,
no bigger than your magnet eyes.
But this stage is current,
it lasts for no longer than a lifetime,
the half blink of a giant.

.......Pity House.......

Rip the follicle vehicle of vegetal hair,

over the dried machine of cumbersome care,
slow and spitting,
down the road to the "Pity House" drive in,
3 pounds a takeaway,
a bag of sad manic malice,
stenches of malpractice,
who are the parents of these bastard days?
shift the blame to castaways,
they blame the shores today,
born to a beast of moral kidknap,
bearing the child of this vicious life trap,
to be fucked by its own,
to bear the same,
the eggs of Pity House strays.

.......Perveruniverse.......

Oh the booze of the night,
great bubbles of tiresome booty dances,
flash sticks on champagne glasses.
We danced and pranced, and sipped the night away,
Hunters out for their prey,
Make up faces of clowns with vaginal rounds,
The prey, the prey!
I pounced a few, with whispered eyes to cue,
tough thighs vibrate to musical girate,
cock filled with the juice of mortal pain,
empty, neuron paths of shell skinned brain,


but all was love, and hair stroke nights,
her head on laps of timeless times,
years of build, our construct life,
i touched the hairs i saw from far,
the punctuation of the evening's phrase,
the friend, the girl, and my brainless maze.

time for a black out,
coke was smacked out,
i woke to the empty room of liquor,
of royalty paintings, eyes on my faces,
the noise came as whimpers,
as fucking was a killer,
death of spirit, careless, selfish,
listening to the sour sound of my soultress,
with a hunter of the Celtic temptress,
body juices slipping behind the thin wall,

the sick, of fictional memory construct,
years of padding, adding to our kinship,
the vomit took it, all on to woven Arabic carpets,
i ran for the door of freedom near,
for the night buses of empty sadness,
homefree.
the muse was at it,
slapping silly kinship into it.
but i was the worst,

perverse with owning the universe.

.....Madman Gain.....

Trot away,
piggy days,
your snorts are heard by all.

The secret swine,
you bide your time,
the ticks and tocks that tower.

Time hasn't come,
for it never was,
we've been here all along.

You knew us well,
you taught us wrong,
Now we know you more,

Thrust above,
by trust fund love,
we care not for gold and gleam,

We see you now,
your sweaty brow,
your shell of guilty lies.

You fed us bad,
trimmed our wings,
we were drunk on madman gain,

Eyes ripped open,
now we're sober,
the old blind date is over.

.......Smoky Coat.......

Smoke town had me by the throat,
the visitor's always out the boat,
it seemed to rock,
just about afloat,
but now I live,
I eat,
I sleep,
The boat is mine,
my heart,
my coat.

.......Magic Meme.......

Mechanic fonts of men gone by,
under our feet,
we are their sky,
muscle rip,
tissue dipped,
into magical meme of fictional times.