xpansive painting of futures vulgarity constructed
never the same; a game, a dodge, bring me out
angels exist as accidental patterns on the bottom of burnt pans
Sepia records agitated in grieving and ugly wanting lips
moving images flicked through jagged marks of mournful sinners
fucked akashic memories swirl downwards; gouged with blunt pencil
sharply onto tea-stained manuscripts that no one gives a fuck about any more
Idle - Idol - false green and silver gods and presumption ALWAYS in endless lies
foolish putrefaction; laughing, creased up with sore belly at your stupidity
Bellies - Belie, half-hearted cracks at unwanted star-filled skies - notice
No care. No realisation. No waking up. Stay awake in front of synthetic flames
in plastic fibres and forlorn temperatures, fry on one side gently, feel blue
passing a finish line brings your loss, I'm three quarters there already - strikes
counted insults and cherry pie comforts at armchair lengths inside wanting depths
An invasion, screaming forks on china plates and white TV snow that hypnotises
Anger is quiet - that train has gone - boredom is home for the holidays in a Rolls
Visions of writing on walls drip silently through dreams of ancient labyrinths
Unicorn shit style, love is not a drug, nor a necessity - its like beer in an eternally empty fridge
Books on cleaned shelves shift uneasily to be read and absorbed; collateral
cholesterol; blood worn veins and artery spurts damage the flow of every fucked up day
it's lists; it's listed - always list worthy - written down with no purpose of an underscored priority
flowers - suspicious. Suspicion in roses always and ideas of great times and harsh sex
thrown in with un-argued screaming matches and silent punches
never caught in time, positioned well through glass doors and ceilings
smoothing air bubbles from safety film - keeping busy - fuck off
Coffee ...
~ SRWB 2010
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