FRUIT & SOUL

 

i
am
trying here

for a full heart offload
with crisp stereo imaging

& a lengthy warm decay

cant shoehorn that
into some
dusty old pentameter

without

killing off

its gnarly fruit & soul

DEATH IN CHELSEA

getting out at at Sloane Square 
into a handbag convention
i am asked by a red trim butler 
or a weekend beefeater 
or something else 
smart and subservient
if
i
need help sir

i tell her she cant help me - 
my mind is screaming 
POSHICIDE!

fixie Charge Plugs are D-locked in clots
and classic SL's cruise insolently
in fire engine red
new TT's and shining A5's
rev church quiet showroom fresh
and long nose ladies prowl in pairs 
in plastic Earhart shades
and thin patterned shawls 
blow stylishly sideways 
in movie wind machines
and times font signs 
say 4 shirts 200 pounds
and art-modern shops hold one dress 
in a vacuum and three colours
and a lonely manikin 
posing at the till
gazes out from perfection for help
and afternoon drinkers 
sip short coloured cocktails 
sat in enormous window thrones
with fashionably flaking gold gilt
and the Kings Road Macdonalds 
of widescreens and sofas
has hanging baskets of blooms 
above the high wide porch
and the Pret is run 
by a rom-com casting agent
and has steel mirrored stairs 
to steel mirrored bathrooms
and would a quick handful 
of painless poisonings 
really matter at all ?

i'm only in this fuckburg
to see a Royal Brompton professor 
about my madness anyway

so
thats
a
good
cover
right
there