FRIDGE OF DIPS

in the lurid 

& binocular land

old paranoia 

grows lucid as owls

& 

our skein of civilisation
is tangled

like a rat king

painted flatly

on cheap veneer

&

an 

awful & deliberate

awareness deficit

cosplays a second coming
in

the

street theatre of the dead

& 

freedom 

is a buttery illusion

reaching
all the long way

from the biscuit tin
to the fridge of dips

CAMUS & MALAMUD

if the purpose
of a writer
is to stop
civilisation
destroying itself

like camus & malamud claim

then you
better
look-read
elsewhere
today

im more likely
to hand out dynamite

GOODBYE ?