THE BALLAD OF ALCOMABOOZE PT 2

Protest gulping

Blank looks

of strange knowing

Of course,

if you push,

mixing

Then you see the wrong glory

little girls

of vomit-tears on my cheeks,

crying

I am an

illystrated suicide

Pulling

at free life tides

We are a

slow burning classic

And we are not unheard

And we are misunderstood

We are

too subtle

and benevolent of gifts

and giving smiles

and the

vulnerability

of vomit tears

on my cheeks

Our irony

is liquid

and poured away

We are window shopping

both sides of the glass

We are wet Jesus

caught

in the brothel

at last

I am Low

with the Braille bottles

of the budget years

class

with the Diamond

of the London hotel

class

with the Sidecar of the Paris hotel

Low and class

in the council kitchen

smashing

Hemingways on the back step

We want to be noticed

We only want attention

And then

left alone,

take only our point

I say

only notice our song

Of the

elbow launching physics

The law of feeding

is discreet

we subverted

The liquid heat

don’t wash you out

We say look at us fall but

Watch us

not die

from this

utter state

we insist on

Playing on the wet ledge

in the cold nights

when only we

are warm

We say

I don’t need your coat

'Cos I’m going up this tree

We have

drunk you to nothing

and

allthing

with us alone

We can see through………the dozen heady stars

We may salad our words

Disgust at times

When we laugh too loud

When we blow on our ice-cream

And our hands

mean too much

With the crying tears

of vomit on our faces

even when we

don’t sick

And we insist

on the quiet times

we insist on

In forced darkness

of daylight rooms

with Eno on

We may have screamed at dawn

Screamed at the dawn,

blind horse arriving

Have short panics

like you never thought,

I freak in your

surprise

at the blind horse arriving

Speak in strong actions

Lay our bodies in the way

Bloated

softstacles

in action

silent

but noted for

retrospectives

on the road of progress

Evil we digress

In a sense

Self induced regress

To a warm place

excited at nothing

or wallowing in the

reeds of

yesterdays ambiguity

where there is

no doubt

no concern

Always

a small smile ready

on the sideline

of our lips

Or always

a small tear-hint

may glisten of

understanding

in our full eyes

Sparkling with

unkillable child beauty of night

And sure,

sometimes unsure

and wobbly for sure

Confused

prone to dithery

if surprised thinking

But its alright ma,

we are only free

We compact and combat

the microcosm

and the macromasses

stuck in the mainstream

Hidden in clothes

I would ask you temping conjurer

Are you sane?

Yes, you would have to say

I would note delusional

On my gibberish pad for sketching

And go on my cold-glass way

Be a scrappy insurgency

Take your hits early

And grow, old sot

To Lush westwards

on the blankest of Wednesdays

You must take the ripping piss

From all

till they are dead-

I may not

remember yesterday at all

But I see

the ashtray on the TV

And I see

no cigarettes anywhere on the TV

And I recall

the seaside nights

and the hills of dawn

In detail

booze-thick

and lit by mortal fear

Because there's protest bright

shining deep in here

And I may not

remember yesterday at all

But I sometimes

take pills with my

drink/drink

And I am tall

Only smell shit

and the flowers

My own snot

in widescreen hours

I am the heavy dog

barking ‘NOOO!’

In swift gulps

of hunger and necessity

Make my brain,

chrome hard,

think softer

And display

cognitive dissidence

Am I a dolphin

or a porpoise?

Our pavement difference

is your double yellow same

And we toast

in Tuesdays with glasses

Solid small overflowing disasters

Of shots,

hits and chasers

Because

As long

as evil

is here

We will be

drink/drinking

A danger to myself

and your compassion