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behaving lunatics
repressing     til the coming of rupture
                    when the clocks shall strike dumb

then we shall plumb freedom of expression
1st version 24/11/22
faded Ladybirds swarm    my buildings intercom
Are they responding to an electric hum ?

faded Ladybirds swarm
a yellow painted wall
desperation
it is an unyielding prayer
no nourishment before the freeze
21/10/22
observation of population explosion of imported faded ladybirds
neth jones Nov 20
solicit the galling thoughts                                                  
those obscenities   rigged gorily within        
          victim concepts   taught distortion   forbidden carcass

in the persisting sully of night                                            
padded dreams pace    ******* at a fed distance      
it's all in sight  and held racing back and forth  out of reach
                     some sloven mystery
under a cower of skin

one day free of your agent cover                                        
and you'll stand   vacantly able     under eye of the morgue creator
mating together life habits    gracious goodness gratefully seeded
you could maintain a patient pattern
with practice you could go mainstream

                                 -with practice
neth jones Nov 20
beetle like foetal
shrink wrapped pebble
peddling twig ticking limbs
shrouded  wings
so sung    into its sorcery  
jewel cracked    meal like  delicately 
delicacy         if commuted to mouth
however    it is committed to the air
strike veins and charge the tissue
sprout the wings    freed
cupped caring breast beats on the air
heavy beetle           upright suspends
carried with pendulum dignified flair
a businessman of the sky till arrival
with a mandible crown in place
of a stiff bowler hat
and limbs flung
ready to greet
or do battle
neth jones Nov 14
i must hustle    cause i’m made of spoil
moist rice skin
            thinly incases  soft fluttering organs
mucus coated   elastic  chicken bones
                                          run throughout my parcel
they prop me      doe-ing before the lumy screen
     (the screen that volunteers us all)

emaciating into my work
      through this communal portal    i'll detonate my legend
    my spirit shall decant and dispel gladly
in the world remaining
    my cadaver will become acclimated
                        and re-meat the soil in an easy spill

         no longer alienated     my work will be    utter
24/10/22

original version

I must hustle    cause I’m made of spoil
moist rice skin
            incasing soft fluttering organs
bones prop me      doe-ing into lumy screen
in that world I’ll emaciate my legend
before    in this one     I re-meat the soil
neth jones Nov 11
sky like combed smoke
unseasonably warm for mid November
carrying my coat
i wonder if winter depression
can be missed this year
10/11/22
neth jones Nov 9
the city's moon                                            
       fixated in its peoples tics and behaviour
                    crass and mentally fractured
traction acts
the loony satellite makes sway for rude construction          
                                          ­        padding our ego psychology
nothing    simple    allowed
we are all a manic reference of each other

the city weather is steered                              
       by currents of gossip
withhold your info
               culture clutches
misguiding alliances
    treasure your details                                              
                      it is your only insurance

this city                                            
it's a view to thrill                                              
            ­ but it odors me til ill
****** privacy and get undressed
too much time here   harbouring thirst      
quibbling hurt feelings                          
         signals ;  Life Emitting Distress

so                                                    
lock up the night city stars                                 
                 mar-glaring bulbs of pity-me
                          staring about for vagrancy
i flip up my hood             
lucent pandery eyes span the communal routes   
search us out       merchandise and mood
i turn down an alleyway
and am confronted
                                          a vain and voyeuristic fan tail
varieties cocktail of sales and entertainment
ad lights send out sonar 'pings'
wing-ed ; fencing judgement
i wear pricy contacts to veil my retinas
and my hood is lined with aluminium

     i cough and concentrate on breath
commemorate each step undertaken
weaponize my walk
eyes low
my being is voided into guise

heading further from the city centre
i can straighten from my defensive pose
in amongst the dwellings              
             the urban effect dwindles
kindled   instead   by the dosey soup wash of streetlights
delights;   the holy crop of them
webbing outward    retching past our boundaries          
              shored back upon natures breath                      
(so i imagine)
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