Tuesday, 6 March 2012

THE NEW DEAD ARE BURIED ON TOP OF OLD KILLS

lipstick mouths are close up warm and breathy
drunk fingers resting on me
eyes 
saying its nothing
     nothing at all
just
skeleton hands playing the broken piano

I USED TO DO WHITE GOOD FRAUD
she's 
whisper-shouting 
into my ear
FUCK IT, IT WAS CURRYS, I DID LOADS OF SHIT

I USED TO BE A TRAVELLER
another is
whisper-shouting 
into my ear
LIVED ON A DRIVEWAY, DON’T TELL ANYONE

secrets spilling 
out of over-filled mouths flashing animal tongues
eyes saying its nothing
     nothing at all
just 
the new dead being buried on top of old kills










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