Fried

 

I want to get fried under radiant skies

Toasted like heated bread

Stoned like a rock

Folded like a sock

Smashed like a broken bottle

Trashed like Shane MacGowan

I want to be high like a cloud

Weird like an anarchistic alien

Bent like a coat-hanger

Blasted like a rocket into space

Wasted like a wastrel

Till all pain is gone

And all anxiety vanquished

Jupiter Moon

 

 

A moon among many
Rocky sphere rotating perfectly blanketed in space time
A part in a symphony of spheres singing the universe
Cold beyond cold and empty
Sparse atmosphere as fine as powder
Craters pock-mark and indelibly render the sphere imperfect
Blanketing piercing points of light – stars a scatter of light as many as grains of sand on a beach
Diamond pinpricks on the hide of night
So black endless abyss between the stars
Circling a gas giant, colourful banded in the sky – browns, yellows, reds

Swollen with swirling gases over a rocky core
Ringed with star-dust
Jupiter
Beware the red storming eye
Which watches malevolently
Rotation and orbit in perfect gravitational order
In the silence of space

Understand the solitary man

Understand the solitary man
Burnt out tree lost in a forest of loneliness
Pebble under an infinite mountain
He puts on a mellow album
Smokes a couple of cones
Lights mandarin flavoured incense
Stares at the dirty plates and empty drink bottles surrounding him and recoils at how dirty the coffee table is
Considers doing the washing
Considers moving the dirty plates to the kitchen
Doesn’t move

His mental soliloquy:
“Oh my filth, my precious filth
No-one can tell me to clean up
At least I know where things are
Oh God ,I’m getting fat
My back aches when I walk
I’m going to die alone in a rented room
From a heart attack or lung cancer
Or I’ll get diabetes and someone will chop off my leg”

Paranoia, paranoia most foul in lonely rooms all over the world where excess men who nobody wants live out their pathetic lives
His personal space is small
No-one wants to invade it
His dreams are always full of women
But his life is empty of them
Too depressed to jerk off but soaked in longing
Waiting for death
Understand the solitary man