AN UNSURE POP

the horrors -

the bombs
the charity children
the dangerous drinking water

the charity children 
getting drone bombed
IN 
their 
dangerous drinking water

you
can
scroll
past them now

with one hasty-lazy thumb

fossil fuels
powering 
your
looking glass

rivers throttled
&
elephants down

do you want to follow the money ?

or dance 
in
complicit 
aversion

wallowing
gluttoned

with me


~


when 
back in the day
itd
have
been
rumour & gossip

did you hear what the stranger said ?!

& 
eventual 
horror story 
oil lamp legend

or likely

proof of satan
&
means of control


~


in other news
i found my college yearbook

&
i
put
it
straight away again

spine in

even my history 
too raw

from raf.mod.uk

PICASA MADRIGALS, THREE TV POPS

TOILET TOOTS

i
piss
into
another
Armitage Shanks
down
on
a
Whiff Away cone

im in a supermarket cafe pisser
reminded of the boozers up town
by 
the
framed
ads
on
the
wall

clubnights and party websites
hotlines and affiliated plumbers

~

theyd always be mumbling
in the cubicles up town

stifled snorts of laughter 
amplified off the tile

loud nose clearing
sharp inhalations

gasps guffaws
an urgent impatient controlling vibe

then a clusterfuck of men 
looking half raped
would
fall
out
together

their 
eyes
all childlike guilt

that turns to empty bravado 
and shout-talking in lists
they
fight themselves 
back down the stairs

~

id be emptying myself
into old Armitage
watching out the corner of my eye

and sometimes
theyd 
be
a
forgotten wallet in there
fringed in fine white dusting

maybe a rolled up cityboy fifty
on the pissy floor

or
just
some sick
on a turd

~

id go back to sit down
happy with my heavy drinks

id
be
going
soft
inside

id feel like home and nowhere
in tune
with the bars 
stained timber 
loser
serenade

~

if i had any wraps of madness
theyd
be
saved
for when im somewhere
i 
can
control the music

id rather 
be
in
private
when i talk total balls
hooked on rolling news
laughing at my shoes

~

gurning faster-miles-an-hour
and playing only intros
is
best
with
few
witnesses
smashed in a similar delusion

from timeout.com

GOOD KIP AT THE END OF THE WORLD

so all the cows
eat all the corn
that we could eat
so we can eat them

( prob served up on a toilet lid these days
  or on a fucking roofing tile )

and all the cars
roll our carbon frames
15 feet to the cornershops
for canned carbs
and chemical clumps
in happy plastic coats

( we go thru sweet treats
  like a worm thru soil )

and all this time
the
old
nukes
pile
up
uncounted and loose
their software 100 years old

shall we even pull children anymore
from the dread of our balls ?

and if our world ended
well it would be out of the way then
and
unveiled we could cry ourselves dry
and loot in peace and nostalgia
and
sleep
some
deep animal sleep 
at 
long
last

( our priorities
  harshly realigned )

from egumeny.com

ON PURPOSE

once upon a time
a long long time ago
on
a
nowhere street corner
of
short garden walls and cropped lawns
a
much younger me
locked
away
all
his 
confused and conflicting emotions 
deep deep deep inside
his
skinny boy guts
and
felt
a
wonderful
short
term
buzz
of
control and freedom

 from sikhanonymous.wordpress.com

 

SELF PORTRAIT

ash flakes onto the desk like dirty snow from days first smoke
lit and pulled deep
he blows it away to collect and become dust
and
coffee steams out the round cup like ghosts of ground beans 
and field labour
from 
the 
first 
pot

he rubs sleep from tired eyes

he'll do this all day

he squints eyes tight shut fingers still over keys
trying
to
remember
the
words
he thought on waking
or just
from seconds ago

them he rattles them out/eyes unfocused - 
or something close anyways
and of course they seem weak and his face shows displeasure

its quiet - this effort day task one
a challenge on waking
a discipline in the unwashed dressing gown 
dry night sweat itching
a determination born of coldfire breakdowns 
and drunken wasted time

he SAYS something and launches its small creation
into 
electronic ether

the cat passes by - sits back-to-him on the wide window sill
watching
the
silent street and birds in the red berry bush

he sips coffee - opens new tabs - closes new tabs
checks the time

sometimes i control his hands

sometimes

from Hospice Matters wordpress