Archive for August, 2016

amy_jackson_pollock_painting_by_amau41200-d4vjeut

Teenage kicks and hooligan hijinks
Drunken vandalism
Graffiti thrashed on walls

Sitck it
In your arm
Draw a bubble of blood

Don’t break
Your fragile bones
When stumbling

Mobile phones
Hypnotize masses
Like Dynamo

Shit stains in underpants
Time to do the washing

Erotic psycho-frenzy
Pants down for action

Gorgeous ass
Wobbles
Like a jelly melon

Your porcelain smile
Escalates me
For the moment

Light that cone
Inhale smoke
Cough

some pass cars
some make passes
I pass gas

Cigarettes like time
Thoughts like conversation
Tranquility

 

alone boy - original size

 

Cone of chilli powder
Boot in guts
Laughter at your expense
Shoved off your feet
Punched in the face
Shaven head immersed in alcohol
Gonad paralysis
Mental misfire
Tumours in soul
Knife in eyeball

It is important not to make loneliness and romantic failure your identity
Like a coat of woe over your personality
Which emits doom and darkness
Life will not reach out and grab you
A horrible scene
Prophecy of subterranean madness
Rubber man
Plastic man
Strip off your paranoia like shitty underpants
Before you die in a puddle of self-deprecation
Hiding in corners like a spider or a gecko
Just observing passively
Because afraid anxious confused
Sometimes it’s hard to find the right thing to say
So I remain silent as a sphynx

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Time like cigarettes
Measuring out moments of tedium and trial
Just existing
Sometimes seems difficult
Watching television
To quiet suicidal ideation
Decaying cognition
Corrupted cogitation
Stinking thinking
All around the rubbish piles up
‘Cos I can’t be bothered cleaning up
Or have some mental block about it
Any woman would be frightened away
I’m going to die festering in my own filth

 

messy-room

 

Beer bottles of yesterday’s binges are spread out on the floor like dead soldiers on a battlefield
War against sobriety was waged and won
My chair is festering in guinea pig piss
The kitchen is a hurricane nightmare
My coffee table is rotting in ash and memory
Filled with all my essentials so they are easily at hand
Cigarette butts overflow in the ashtray
There also parts of old newspapers, chip-packets and empty orange juice bottles all over the place
Quite a few energy drink cans and some empty beer bottles
It’s a fucking mess
But it’s my mess damn-it

 

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I didn’t see you last week
Or the week before
And now my heart feels like a biscuit under a boot
So strange- tied up with string
Such a hopeless hope
That I might be your boyfriend
If only I was alpha enough
Or thin enough
Or not socially awkward
Maybe it’s better just to be a friend
Someone in your sunshine life over the event horizon
Where you dance and dance flamenco style
And there is never any chilli powder in the ointment
Just talking to you was marvellous
Dream woman, heavenly harridan, delicious person

John Berryman

He made it all up
False malady – told with a poker face
Staying at home and watching TV
Counting the leather pelican winds
Making obstacles out of dust-motes
Letting his neurons short circuit

Grieving Henry was drunk
‘Wasted again’ Mr Bones
Spirit fades like a camera flash
Hope falls into the abyss
Life holds Henry in a fist
Squeezing out residual rebellion

Clench, clench, spit
Like orange juice
Or blood on sheets
At night when silence descends like mist
He remembers
How blessed are the dead

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Corpse flower
Flagrant bloom
Stench of fester
Cadaver charisma
Sets flies buzzing
And maggots oozing
Like treacle or THC through my brain
Am I insane
To love your perfections
To love the idea of your stench
Shit-flower, death-flower, cock flower
Some love roses, some love sunflowers
But your dark mysteries churn my heart
Like an electric shock
Corpse flower
With your deep red inflorescence
You turn stomachs and bring forth vomit
In human beings
Deep from the brain-stem
You draw the flies and beetles
Decay feeders
Coprophiles

Titan arum
Amorphophallus Titanum
Penis of the plant world
So rare, so fleeting bursting bloom
Your name means gigantic misshapen dick
Proof botanists have a sense of humour
And you do kind of look like one
Bunga Bangkai-
Your name sounds rude in Indonesian too
Even deep in the rainforests of Sumatra
Where you lurk
Waiting to get it on with the flies

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Sometime in the early 2000s
I was running my own business messing with people’s brains
Playing with the brains of crazy people to make them feel better
I convinced a very senile psychiatrist
To prescribe me dexamphetamines
Once I got them I was pretty stoked
When I ate a lot my brain started whizzing and whirring
Speeding off my head for months and very happy to lose some weight
They had an unfortunate side-effect of making really horny and desperate for love
It sucked having a boner and nothing to do with it
So I chased any woman who crossed my path and really started to get a bit out of control
Of course, despite chemical enhancement I was getting nowhere
My predatory sexuality had become a big worry
I was starting to look a women with a razor-wire mind, seeing them only as objects

So a smart woman warned me I was creepy and put up with being a friend to guide me
One time I was over at my smart friend’s house
She gave me ten clonazepam
Which probably wasn’t smart
Thinking I was a badass I ate them all
Then I tried to drive home
Too many benzos are not good for driving
What happened is a whirligig blur of lights and cars
Then I ran into the back of a cop car
Writing off my precious little pulsar
While stoned out of my gourd
I have no memory of how it happened

Anyway they busted my ass and took me for a blood test
Which didn’t find the benzos
But did find a shit-load of THC
As I was smoking like Bob Marley in those days
Still do
Done for driving under the influence of drugs and dangerous driving
I got a three thousand dollar fine which took ages to pay off
And banned from driving for a year
I lost my license
I lost my business
And my dignity
So I’ve not bothered to get a license again as it just seems to lead to trouble
I’m a terrible driver and it’s now been so long I’d have to take the test again
So that’s why I don’t drive

piggie

Winter trees without leaves
Bare Branches interact and spread
Clouds spun out in white woollen puffs
Blue patches of bare sky
TV aerials perforate the sky-line
Stainless steel roofs ripple
Lungs full of fresh air
Piggies pick out stems of grass in the back yard
Burrowing through tall grass and weeds
Playing their endless chasing game
Silence watching over piggies
Peace Man Yeah