so much squawk and squall    too many people echo the walls
abrasive  and i've no block but to ingest it
wrappered and trapped in this room-without-imagination
this is fusion   a batter of coms and intel i cannot separate and
rooms instrument clamps me   pressioned still          
                         and inflates me like a berry
my vision is expelled                      
my teeth pop out    my ears whine and whistle
my pores fire out tiny dirt pellets                    
                    and my friends duck for cover

all the bombast and sonic din that entered
and all the gases combust from within                          
         I go from ‘surprising’ and ‘absurd’
                                to full on percussion and detonation

what did they do   to deserve a friend like me ?
it’ll be some time    before they enjoy a good meal in company
one without p.t.s.d.   revulsion
and  (without a choice)  in memory of me

lunch break  fire escape                  
   seagulls hover  far below              
rattled  by stern winds          
  thoughts battle  their own nature    
no progress  in their flight      
.

solve  like ashes                                                  
the moisture  from the living world surround
watching  the days go dry          
               barren witches  upon the season

trot it all out     two tottering opposites                                
            duelling sets   of things we ought think
two angers   we must take like a ***** draught
and we are distractible
one feeding of fear   to link us all                         
    and we are made quite yielding
                                        
i feel willing now  to rush upon death   just to get the it over with
and the dragons can take the hoard                      
                             and disable its currency
a real species stopper
well done

...love is hunter sick nerves you enter dream love is puncture it is green with life lush and suffering and kitchen frot and menial wreck and the reburn of childhood excite a spell and sale of a mental thing and incompletely rheumy-tunes...

applause of pigeons lifting   a cluttered company
they high circle hurt  between winter stark          
apartments brittle      and settle in braver             
perch and concrete sill
 frosted  but in the sun