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Waking to this,
the very good
morning kiss,
absolutely
smashing.
She read to me
Nietzsche
and I loved her
more.
The odds on
anything
getting worse
are better
than  evens.
If it was
scissors
paper
rock and
dynamite
I'd
win.
There are no
musical chairs,

but some chairs
do
rock.
Cardinal sins are those
occasionally committed
by
(you guessed)
Cardinals.
Defying sleep
my
eyes are crossed
by phantoms of
light.
Charity,
the barometer
by which we
measure
the unbearable
pressure.
She looks
just like I look
when I want
something.
Underachieving

if that's what you believe in,

go for it.
There's a bit of the
Yukon
going on
in everyone.
Save me this sensation
to savour for
one more day
It will last
until I'm unfastened,
then
it will end.
If you've been there
you'll know exactly
where
it is.
If your chances
look slim,
get fat
simple
as
that.
Hey,
cloud nine feels fine

what's all the fuss about?
When the Rapture
arrives
I wonder if
it
will trend.
white faced
the inmates
look beyond
walls
into another
asylum.
beats and beats us
every time.
''the other four words were lost in translation...**** on that one Socrates.
It has affected my balance,
that'd be
my bank balance.
A shooting star
unzips
the night sky.

I am undone.
I lit one fire
you
set light to
all
history.
This day, so long,
until I remembered
years had passed.
There's more being said
than there ever is
being done.
I am safe
in my shell
until
she fires me.
She tells me
to sleep,
but knows
I'm
awake
forever.
Did he?
was it we
who made he
did we?
In the ether
of eternity,
turn,
look
at me.
Smoking.
Existential dread
always seems worse
when you're laying
in bed.
While y'all praying
I'm just a playing
my banjo
solo.
She
spins stories
like
spiders spin webs
I
am spellbound.
A man of many parts,
let us call him
Frankenstein.
Old people go to church
but
that's just a reaction
nearer my God to thee seems apropo
Every time you
catch me
I
want to fall
again.
Still.
Is a place inside and
sometimes
I hide there.
Passing by me
she
remarked rather dryly,
'you look
rough'
He wasn't here,

Paul Revere was

Lexington
Massachusetts
April 1775
Keeping covered
hiding under the
duvet
dodging
the
frost
patrol.
Tonight,
Don Corleone
you will steep
along with the
dishes.
Slicing so slightly
to write of me
pages in
blood.
Every time I look
she kills me with
that look.
'Life could be a dream'
and
it's usually
a nightmare.
You call this poetry?
I call it
a
diabolical liberty.
The guillotine drops,
she knits
balaclavas
for the dead.
Poetry,
the reason for
and why it has to be.
Part one done

adverts on now

waiting for part two
Almost televisual
You're digging
your own grave,
that'll save on
funeral costs
A second chance
only comes
once.
Do not
waste
it.
We make more of nothing
than we make
of everything.
Bells?
if it's not
a hangover
it must be
Sunday.
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