Posts Tagged ‘nightmare’


Wasted carousing through dodgy bars

Head full of hops and THC eyes red and crazy with vestigial energy

How much I love you at times like this

Dancing down pavements whirling like a top

Laughing at identikit suburbanites and sex shops

Rifling and riffing down dank alleyways

Hanging out for an easy fix

Dusty angel men

Compassionate and true

Doing deals and conspiring flagrantly

Doing drugs and peering into binoculars

Sleeping in alleys, drinking wild turkey

Then raging through a blue nightmare like bees




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


There’s a foetus crawling up my leg
It has no pupils and eyes as white as an aspirin,
Vestigial limbs, no finger or toes
There’s a foetus crawling up my leg
Translucent skin- I see every purple vein in an infinite intricate network
It’s covered in mean-green festering slug-slime
There’s a fucked-up foetus crawling up my leg
I think it’s hungry
I thought I heard it whisper my name
There’s a fucked-up foetus with fangs crawling up my leg
Perhaps it’s a vampire
But not one of those wussy twinkly ones from Twilight
Perhaps it’s a badass like the ones from Buffy
There’s a fierce fucked-up foetus with fangs crawling up my leg
If I’m lucky, it will drink my blood
If I’m not it will also eat my brain
There’s a fierce fucked up foetus with fangs crawling up my inner thigh
I hope it’s just a dream
Or an acid flash-back
Maybe it’s a ghost
Maybe it’s a ghoul
Maybe it’s a succubus
Maybe it’s an incubus
Sylvia, Sylvia- is it one of your demon children?
Sylvia, Sylvia- did you see it too in 1963?
Sylvia, Sylvia- did it leave scars on your succulent body?
Sylvia, Sylvia- did you see it when you stuck your head in the oven?
Sylvia, Sylvia- does it still haunt you now?
Sylvia, Sylvia- Have you met your Nazi Daddy?
Because ‘Every woman adores a fascist’
Sylvia, Sylvia- I hope you’ve mellowed out in fifty years- you suffered so much
But you made sadness and death so gothically intricately beautiful
Sylvia, Sylvia- I think I love you

The Metal Skull

Posted: September 7, 2014 in poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Dreams of death:
The metal skull is beaten until all the lumps are gone and it shines like a diamond tiara.
The metal skull is beaten until love vanishes and it gleams with apathy.
The metal skull is beaten, forging new nightmare images in its secret brain.
The metal skull is magnetized by random metal thoughts:
Fragments of envy buzz around like flies, attracted magnetically.
Envy is like osteoporosis- it ruins my love and breaks metal bones.
The metal skull is smashed by vile envy.

The broken skull reassembles itself:
Bone joins bone as the skeleton forms and is spray-painted with flesh and skin.
I cannot hate the skull or the body that reassembles around it in my dream when I am conscious-
But when asleep, jealousy boils, envy forms poisonous pustules, love turns green.
Awake there is love, but asleep we are enemies.