Death is waiting for me
downstairs in the car,

But I'm running late as always,
Old habits,
They die hard.

torn flower pettles
engulf the vastness,
devoid of time and reality,
of the growing distance.

a floral bath
doused in flourescence.
the white lilies
that signify a grave.

your charred corpse,
a bloated bag,
floats in a putrefying stasis.
only half a daisy-boy beauty.

the water fizzles
into acid. the hyacinths wither
into amorphous globules.
gap tooth dissolves.

rattling thunder
pummels the tinny tin can roof
under which you drive
through the swelling swamp-roads.

you say this is england.
i say this is climate change.
snakes emerge from murky water,
the same green as your eyes.

a hiss wobbles through your tar-bones
and your flesh boils to scales.
a fat, emerald python.
eating me whole and clean.

your bleach-bowels sear me.
a hapless, cocooned boy for a devil.
the teenage smile is what beguiled me,
tricked me into your drunken youth.