Posts Tagged ‘school’

screen-shot-2012-10-30-at-4-28-19-pm

Felonious kicks
For stupid pricks
Cavorting like corpses through purple twilight
Tedious fucks
Out of luck
When concrete cracks
Buildings collapse
Never go back to the town of your birth
Where skeletons parade through lonely streets
First people you meet
Have no eyes and no faces
Spectres haunt corners and grimace like gargoyles
Cars pass driven by porcelain princesses
Taking their kids to school
While their identikit husbands toil
Through uneven soil
And death’s maw beckons
At every second
To suck them into the pit
Full of shit
They consume and sit in front of television
Hypnotized
Hype glazes their eyes
And zombifies their skulls till everything just seems to blur
Into a grey and infinite turd
Stinking up their neurons and rendering them vegetable
Useless as a used condom

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burrendah

Burrendah Primary School in the outer suburb of Willetton in Perth
New plants- short stubby bushes and asbestos clad buildings still in primary colours
Kids in maroon uniforms- swarms of little boys and girls

The little blonde boy stands alone in the withering wind in the undercover area
The Fremantle doctor has come in again
Pole straight he stares into the cold steel pylon, hiding behind it from the other children
Willing the school day to end

Oh infinite aching solitude
Oh twisted random mind
Churning full of white noise
No other children talk to him
Except the bully who pushes him over so he scrapes his knee on the bitumen

When he gets home he is happy
Immersed in the rich private world of his toys
His parents never know how he suffers
Like John of the Cross in a box

loneliness
An undercover area in a primary school on a sumptuous day
It has a floor of bitumen and steel girders hold up an orange roof of steel
The Fremantle doctor is whistling through from the south-west,
Cooling the children at play
Behind one of the steel columns holding up the roof is a little boy of no more than seven: blond and wan and pale
He can’t kick a football
He always comes last in running races
He isn’t playing with the other children
He is a lone sentinel in the midst of the unalloyed joy of his peers
The mechanics of friendship are mystery to him
The mechanics of conversation are a mystery to him
His head is full of murky poison thought
Chills of freezing isolation run up and down his spine
He fears that if the others saw the darkness lurking in his heart they would be revolted
He imagines being popular and having friends sometimes but it seems an unattainable dream
His life is a solitary nightmare at school
And his nightmares are the stuff of meta-nightmares