What dispirited purpose cups to my ear
Or orifice sufficed at being a sense of the world
What hands can claim to be my lips
Speaking to the world they claim to feel

What broken envy feels
Those scattered ivy fields
Of hopeful grey sent on its way
Of years and months poured into the day?

What gotten fear keeps me
Chained cherish to the time I should
Be walking on to other things
That make me feel the good?

I found a barrow cut by the wheel
And ghoul-hands rotten roots a-reach
From smoothed walls cut to seem rough
And grief for spirits frothing at the ducts.

I found some feeling of myself
Sippy-cup filled with mediate dreams
I made up words to keep myself from gotten
I sank into quicksand on my back

Cross eyes in the moment and shackle the breath
Sleep is a cousin to death
Fall through the warm ice and float to the deep
Death is a cousin to sleep

Live moons in your promise and hope not to be woken
Eyes stuck with stories are eyes shut wide open
Crawl through the chasms, look up the fire fog
And grow through your mind, drink in deep of your grog

Don’t listen to voices that part with their weep
Death is a cousin to sleep
Their freeness will split you and make words of your breath
Sleep is a cousin to death

What orange bosoms

Can you press to yourself

Prised out a candied tube?

What lice make thoughts creep

And hands run down stockings?



What time spent brainless,

Hoping for a life outside riches

Growing into a chair?

What losing streak

Paints your face, sorry?



What can we talk about

That isn't hopeful,

That asks true questions?

What can I say

of big arses on fat girls

and big biceps on vain men?

You who crawl
Who can still feel fascination of the world
The hard taste of wood and cotton wool
Your mouth smiling for the first time
You're so young, so young

You who gains a thought
And thinks it alone
The candyfloss politics you understand
Your hands clenching into first fists
You're still young, still young

You who heaves
Who can still feel burning passion
That incense of obsession
Taking your mind seeing new things
You're young, you're young

You who lost at last
Who can still feel the pain of betrayal
The rot of blind hopelessnes
Letting your brain seep in chemicals
You're not old, you're not old

You who crackles in the fire
Splits lines like old wood
You who gazes out the window more than when you were young
When your eyes film over and lose talk
You've just grown, only just grown

You who looks at pictures
Who never finds nothing new
Who splits hairs as much as infinitives
Sighing at what hope you used to be
You're no longer young, no longer young

A feeling is gone, A theory remains
And what is to come is less still
What happened before was in hope for the life
That came but lost youth's hazy thrill
Lost

You're an almond joy
A smooth stone in soft flesh
A blank stone sparrow
In crooked wire mesh

You looked over your shoulder
And ignored their descriptive hairs
Dancing with compliance
Giving never selling wares

What unbroken ****** skin
Around your eyes, thy
Eyebrows never meeting, stretching
Happy faces to the sky

I hoped richer feelings
Might comply to your dream, yet
It was laid on shallow and
Cracked and poorly set

Still despite your fret dancing
Your shakes and swoons so full
Graceful, hopeful, ruby bright
Fell dirtied, scratched by gravity's pull

Despite your new company,
Jackal grins that never start
Hope, not one can rival
The sweetness of a young heart.

What's driving you on?
What leads you to breathe
Every aching second?
What hope can you hold,
Flossed from behind the fangs you bear
Why wear what clothes you find
****** at you from behind a bland tie?
Why follow on? Without a star?
With the skies cushioned by smog?

I ask, because I'm amazed,
It's not as if I could do it
It's not as if I did it myself
Lucky, listened me
Fortunate followed me
Hopeful happy me
So how, how do you do it?
Lost lessons to be taught from behind a plastic counter.
Those I never hope to gain

Forests flicker
Candles take mass and lower
Tones across our attention
People rattle cages
Cages fall away
People miss the bars
People choke on the open air

Humans, a special species,
Learning to hate the jewelry of simply cropped things
Leaning in, our own self-pity, driving the broad nostrils pumping air
To our big brains
What wheels may turn from human wants
What frames shudder onward, hoping
To be what the dew can be, simple, clean
Part of what it is

How foolish,
To want what you lose by wanting
To fear what you feed by fearing
But that's mankind, the special ape,
See I'm so simple I wrote mankind
As if the women weren't the same
Or all those inbetween.

In itself it's broken, this toothy thing we churn on
Gears wearing stories, cogs telling lies
It's all so simply pointless, all pillows to the philosophy
Which we learnt from birth
Mankind's bane,
Mankind's death
Mankind's success
And ever more