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Andrew Drummond Sep 2015
Commandos of respect holed up in the lights
of the medical machine
you are the only thing going on in my head
when I am not trying to think

found leaden footage of stock still bunting
from out the abattoir's grand  open day
on the HB pencil museum's HD security cam

voice can't open wide enough
to say your dead summer name aloud
since evil pixie told me to preserve it in its own silence

saw dead things twine in with tweetie pie's twirling bow tie
polo neck wool brings sling blades to a stop
pull throttle into tug of war  till I blacks out again

fourteen lunar wards later
still can't untangle the sad laughter
of  the neat tarantula  that came out in sympathy
shed her wee skin twice so she did
to make me a nice pair of fingerless gloves

two cold green sparks stood and stared  
at the throw away keep sakes
not dying just going under to cool off for a bit

third hinge blew off  and the song circle bled
and I placed its wound in totemic jello till it went the way of all flesh feathers

my share of the pain didn't give yours a moan in edgeways, it clum back down the thorns of  white gore rose
it was near to the end bit of life
where the gentle killers hung around

Uh-Oh my rhyming machine's got stuck again
see you in a moe toe flow blow sow foe bow crow snow low grow doe .............
.................there's no
such thing as zero
said bronzed gecko with crab arms for munch lips
like his song said
-never let now and then get too close together
-never put rainbow colours near any metal when in in a liquid form
-never hug when giving the kiss of life
-never put infrared furniture in dark living room
-never preserve a sadness in an artificial laughter
then when the music was over itself again
my foetus shaped ears clung to my head
like phantom limb headphones
we turned ourselves  back on
and up
and out
of the natural low
till we were beside our old selves again
Andrew Drummond Sep 2015
flourishing man twigs
your skin binder
seperating into
live lizard leather

you voice is making broken mouth noises

too much suction
FROM OUT THE

choir nodules
limpid eye spokes spin

in a humane wood grain
in
calliper, or in plurale tantum

knee cap tattoos
of crawling skunk stars
toggle cap vegetable yoga
in giant pollen helmets

sports magnets
in half wi fi marathon

what kind of *** uniforms
are they hiding in the cenotaph
sunday war things perhaps

— The End —