STD ARE WE

we
are
an
std
in polyester & blinkers...

he cries from his soapbox
mad beard
a sail
in 
the 
high street exhaust wind

& we map out our 
failed potential...

he cries
one watery eye
always
running
milk

theres art 
lost 
in the salt mines...

he cries
arms in heaven
no socks
in his
nowhere shoes
loose laces 
grass snakes 
in the gravel

&
the
rubbish mountain
hidden
inside
the sea...

he laughs 
like freedom 
on the barricades
warm special brew 
& 
overdue catch 22
in
his
thin blue 
corner shop
carrier bag

limo on call
interview at 1

computer

he cries

end program

from thebusinessinsider.com.au

FEST MEMS

  june atmosphere:
foliage stink heavy
is
nearly stormhead

  evoke:
festivals
bestivals
mostivals
and
gig eyes squinting at tinned rock
and
gig eyes vibrate and down shift
with
mixed pot vibes
  in
  neo-medieval batertown 

  geeks gurn on beats
in
litter - screw-tops / butts / shoes / casualties
and
dust

  dusk repaints it into danger
  over-sunned booze heads
  turn
pagan monochrome
round
campfires stolen smoke
  in 
  pop-up cities
  cash
  grab

 from dailymail.co.uk

THE KIPPLE KONTROVERSY 1

it hurts my mind

all the stuff 
the kipple
the this and that
the doohickeys
the gumpf
the plastic
THAT lasts FORVEVER
that we touch
use
discard
love and lose
where does it live now ?  
claustrophobic in a landfill ?
or
a shore
or
tiny hinterland block
on
the
Pacific's garbage island ?
i see it all
in a whirlpool
in my back brain
i own knowledge of the textures 
of the gone delights
and
i dont remember abandoning
any
of
it
at
all

i miss it
i didnt need it
transient kipple
hurts my mind

from haveawhaleofatime.blogspot