PILLS

a new lozenge

in stonewash blue

what is it

i wonder

that you do ?

         anon

to the

dull OSDs

& ivory blimps

of maintenance

i say

friend or foe 

in you go

in  you  go

I AM THE MEAT FORM

  & 

maybe i am

the meat formed
in the calm
before the storm

  or
the tiles & red residue
of the eternal kitchens
breakfast gag & debrief

  where
the fridge 

hum & pop
is a lo-fi 

like techno

soft backing to your skin-pick worry

siren panic to your maintenance dread

ASK THE MUSK, THREE HAIKU POPS

a is still for apple

in the locked groove loop around

lost - you ask the musk


~


highway maintenance

red jackets & a pale sun

meat puppets dancing


~


the towers of song

first stop & last port

fragrance curates memory

SICK OF IT

DEATH IS THERE LIKE A FLAT TYRE IS THERE (BUCKOWSKI)

when our dark troll-brain
is
up
for
air
breathing gas on the limping world 

we'll say - NOTHING has any point 

NOTHING

at

all


but 
thats half-a-thought - if our cold skull meant it
we'd die off a high river bridge
before 
they hung the suicide nets up

so we tolerate our chilled distaste
and
tan our pale sick selves
in
others 
unfathomable
light - not worrying ! NOT WORRYING at all
at 
the faceless faces 
of
chain 
stores / hotels / coffee bars looping the globe
unrolled from imported bales
like 
Chism's 
sharp
wire
and tho the rich throw us balls and guns and easy brown targets
to
make 
us 
feel 
fighting righteous in the ad breaks - dont worry
DONT WORRY
at
all

no - we create rituals
to
blow smoke on

in 
the warm silent nights
and
we play in the day
under swinging washing
and 
the yellow ball of sun 
wondering and waiting
for
the
death - an anticlimax for sure
like
a
third movie sequel
with
an unknown cast
in
miserable inappropriate black

from abc7news.com