again and so -
plastic shades here are lurid as toys
and morning sounds batter and rush me
vivid
as
HD cinema
or drugbomb
my minds a moon walk/a mercury swill
feet are diving boots
and their
metronome motion mesmerises
the slow tick and blank tock
behind
eyes
low
drapes
how, i think, it is that all coffee is empty now?
it
was
hot
it
was
in a mug
and it tasted strong
but EMPTY of accelerators somehow
and the student drs - of course i loathe them
wear earth tones and sea colours
like turd orange and mould greens
and
words like plums rush out from underbites and deep Grant clefts
too goose fed for skinny hipsters and fitted shirts
and
no one needs THREE pagers . . .
again and so
their lack of presence/awareness/actual mass
would
normally,
on some bedslept day,
preclude these babbleclots/these chuckle-clumps
from
REAL
loathing
but today -
again and so, the coffee was empty!
and the
morning delivery tall/wide/large/urgent
wobbling in stretched film corners of weak plastic wrap
on a split and creaking pallet
almost
a
DESIGNED hazard . . .
today - they block the corridor
a dam of Gap and Farah/all low belts and tiny bags
with
such an EPIC lack of spatial awareness
that
i
grooooooowl
hands
wide in a silent plead . . .
to mere shuffling and no eye contact
at
all
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