Look a magpie!
See it fly!
But wait!
    What's that thing in the sky?
    The clouds are heaving moody
    And the stars are begging
        To die.
It hurts to breathe, can’t see can’t write can’t read
    Just let be,
        And we’ll be together again
        In Eternity.

Brief wind stillness means
Nothing to silence
That myth forgotten
Like our stillness in
The once sacred ground
Changed now dug up burnt
Scattered broken glass
Thrown into noisy
Everyday vast air
Unmemorable

Or bear existing
Indefinitely
Held on a mantel
Strange home lingerer
Trapped in Time's domain
Last standing reproach
Nudging its shoulder
Repeating the phrase
You're here forever
Part of furniture
Just gravestone décor
Dusts sent to remind
That you aren't leaving
Coats triumph of life in
Insignificance
Insignificant

I'm trying to balance a bottle on my head
As I lay in bed with my stolen red
At first it's easy, it stays there peacefully
Resting in comfort above my brow
But now it's beginning to slip
The liquid shakes and falls on my face

Chicks out of season
Scamper subtle fear
Creation torn up
Jagged and exact
Mud and green beaten
Senselessly into
Concrete submission
For the pleasure of
No honey-like dust
Being dragged over
Woven corridors
Void sovereign feeling
Imprisoned stare blank
Distrust unerring
Greed and Ambition
Little boxed in hills
Animate in guilt
Projected from those
Who like to point out
'Look, look its something'

Head aching
Thunderous throbbing throng
Smacking back and forth
Round and round this skull
Water, water God! please
Heal my sickness
Thud slowly, carefully down the stairs
Kitchen? Light switch?
Water water where's the water
Fumbling hazeiness
A hand in the blind reaches out,
Gruffly silhouetted standing leaned
Against the Darkness
A military slouch in shadow
He spoke with a bellow
“Look, you drink too much, it’s not good for health”
******* you old ****
“Trust me don't touch the poison,
Look after yourself!”
With the mighty declarative of this sort
He rose from the casual to a grumpy trot
Past the light revealing old sad Ernest
He's one to ******* talk.

Rail, tracks, interrupted delight.
Dawn, a constant drunk, waving to move modernism.
Purple slumber nights, the mind strokes windows, head in rags.
Stumbled sky, hanging and occupying figures that push plague.
Condensation outside hugged in damaged and breathless clots.
Close scenes depressing taste, wake Bonaparte, incandescent seagulls are screaming as they fly, scattered, singing dreams.
Interrupting the closing of yesterday, hoping soul-bruise rates sit low tonight.
Danger plays, paths, fields, bedsheets, house.
Strange death amusements meet tender eyelids.
Numbing the pipedream special, the destination freshly yellow and late,
Colour pretty and clear.

Empty garage lot, barren, regular stop.
1-10 but can't see that far
Later parts hidden by aggregous dark.
Rattle Rattle stay away from that bush
Rattle Rattle stop smoking that kush
Rattle Rattle have a look at yourself
Rattle Rattle you're bad for health, clean up that bad act.
Animal house, screaming down the corridors.
Carefree or ignorant, when you up at morning? Beautifully respectable obnoxsivity, chemical melodrama kitchen scenes, easy-speak blood-rise conversations.
Empty garage lot, barren, regular stop.
1-10 but can't see that far,
Later parts hidden in isolation dark.