& IN HINDSIGHT FREE

the
fresh & glorious
summer funk
of just-cut-grass

ballooooned

across the school field
in the lie of the sunshine glee

~

water fountain running warm
in the demountable shadow

we ran in plimsoles
kicking straw
&
in hindsight
free

DONT THAT SOUND GRAND

kill the morning with art now

dont that sound grand ?

~

used to be sick 

with residue & loathing

&

a fermenting hangover

&

it called for more of the same

broken & glorious

broken WAS glorious

deliberate incapacity

was a political act

dont that sound grand ?

~

alcohol had an energy then
before its function crept
into the cold bone abyss

& 

everything else
EVERYTHING else
from the trees to the grey cocaine
were just chasers boy chasers

chasing me down 

the greased runway

of the cliche slide