ABOUT A CLASSIC POSE

well i dont
but want to

salute the smokers
lighting up

backs bent
cupped hands

heads down
outside b&m

& that first billow
steam train size

of chugged fumes
eddy tugged

spirals wraith like
on the grey-white wind

LIKE I LEFT THE ENGINE RUNNING

the myth of muse

is a side effect 

of all the saliva we swallow

& it sneezes its lexicon-salad

from
inside
even
my
scheduled rest attempts

like i left the engine running 

& this heres the fumes

 

RUNNING ON FUMES

  when your mind 

       is

   terrifyingly

  e  m  p  t  y




. . . natch . . .


~

zip & vim gone
or never to wake

running on fumes

running on the residue 

           

           in 

           the 

           lobotomy pipe

LEATHER FACE

whirling around
in a halo sunset

frustrated into
a mad ballet

engine fumes
hang there
in the highway dust

mask on
tie on

seven foot tall

pic from youtube.com

GOD SAID WHAT ?

stretching out 
in the hot pm

fan on my feet

i dream

and a god comes to see me

yeah right then listen
he says
i exist alright
lets get that out there
but only once you see ?
thats what everyone gets so wrong

and
i
wake
in
a
weird fug
of
dark isolation

i put this down to possible fumes
from
the
cheap-as-arse pound shop sleeping mask
strapped
over
my
glazzies

from azquotes.com