Out on the runway, screaming at grey engines
how did he not open his stomach up in front of the T.V.?
how did Tommy go on living,
the boy never showed, they were to fight at 3, after school
who will I fight now? Who will I hurt?
Who has survived the drowning
Black Atlantic,
bone nails clawing to shore,
writhing in the black tentacles
of scuba gear.
Who stalks the land anew;
unafraid.

So we descend onto the bed
like dust onto the still and sombre poppy
like fragments of pollen lapped up by the lizards tongue
white flash smiles and small night-animal noises.

Wasted seed. ****! Gone, into the folds and crevices of dark
thick smell of rubber like the hot factory floor
I'm tired now, Beatrice. I'm worn, weary,
world-weary, wasted.
I shall sleep now
and unfurl like an impossible caterpillar, unfinished
from its cocoon.

Christ, people
you're all an
utter ****** embarrassment.
you showed great promise,
in those early days,
crackign skulls with stone clubs,
howling at morning suns,
filthy and *******.

but you've only gone and lost the bleeding basics, haven't you?
you don't **** on your territory- what territory?
some big old boy called 'government' has been ******* all over you,
and you applaud like a foolish clown.

you clip your nails with metal, out of necessity,
because they're not being ground on rock
in the fling and throes of the hunt.

you've become terrified of dirt, and the possibilities of the body,
you can't even stomache your meat raw. pathetic.
meek and obsolete, wandering lost and lonely.
you've no pack instinct, and pander on and on and ******* ON

about 'love.' what a villaniously clean word,
not even a scratch of dirt, no delving in warm pink orifices,
filthy and *******

you may be top dog, but you've lost the dog, and are falling from the top.

It’s true, death has jaws.
Ten nations wide,
Snarling like
Tomes torn in utter tedium
Like stars rising and falling through the millennia.

But life has arms.
Strong and weather-tanned,
A village builders, heaving bricks and stone into heaven.
Soft as thou mothers breast,
Caressed by your fathers hands,
Suckled in infancy.

Be embraced by these arms, and in the culmination of solemnity,
Set your lips to the beauteous jaws.

Clinging to the eternal truth
That manaña never comes
But put all faith in the dawn of tomorrow
All the eggs in the sunlit basket

Because here, now,
In the dust of the crushed buildings
The pettiness, the bite of bullets from rooftops
The megaphones screeching their siren songs across
The dredge of forbidden earth,
Here and now
We embrace,

In the dawn of mañana a mother feeds a son
Toasts are made
The Spanish smile and
Gesture to the sky;
They are undefeatable
In the face of defeat;
In the face of mañana.

You down there in the depths
In the dark and lifeless ends,
Stop fantasizing over those non-existents,
Over those perpetual angles and starlit kisses.
Crawl out of the abyss, fingers ******, and
Embrace a human.
Leave those non-existents far behind your wake.

I can’t.
They’re all I have.

Meek and powerless
Human kind stops breeding,
Stops loving.

the sun has never risen,
and yet it has been light
since dawn.

as it sets, it begins to rain.
grey and blue.
lavender grows in the garden.

throughout dark,
records play in the corner,
and lights are focused
on artwork around the room.

people are dank, dark and *****
from working hours
grease and sweat.

they will sleep through this night, and the next,
naked, touched by the sun. entwined
and resting,

until the sun awakens.