exterior
                summer night
streets                            
city                                                            ­
unwelcomely cast                    
                               with blighted solution
an abrasive wash on the senses
like an orange filter                                        
                                    of muted television static
everything is one lit shade                                  
                         ­                    budged shy of a reality

streets city
pried                    
        between the housings                 
          the baked on drain spoilage    
             munched under my tread
dwelling units weigh
                 loud down above me

beat in silence
             no one alights balconies            
a clustered population bulk
no one shares light in this building
             and no one is known to their neighbour

anxious of their fellows                          
they coil
around their trusted genitalia
      soundly
              and despise

so..like what we discussed the other day
                                       'to feel so infect-able'
i mean, cool concept and all but                                            
               you said you get it   and-and that's how i feel
                                                          you know ; all of the time
... like my brain is open and unprotected                    
         floods of **** other guys say  or **** i read online
stuff doesn't even make sense
they're just chewing on a mouthful of teeth
                                                        and­ it imbeds
gets right in the jelly and sticks around  
and it has nothing to do with anything       
                 but  i'll spend the day with my mood crumpled                
about some nasty '*******' directors              
behaviour on a film set ... when ...you know
it's not even a film i'm interested in seeing
and-and there's so much **** right at our front door
     we could help with that                                         
 but.. it's this irrelevant stuff
                                                that's what i'm occupied with
am i just that vulnerable ?   i'm an adult..                                  
           i should function without this damage
... get back to me as soon as you can ;   i'm freaking man !…..
you know what ?                                                                ­        
        this is what's important        and this is why we talk                
friends .. in the real world .. you know  such as it is
...left mucking stale turns before dawning a birth
pleasing   as drawing in a vital breath or something...
...i just.. i just want it back
re-slee­ve me
i miss the world
why did it leave me behind ? remind me
i looked in on it and there's no **** hotel in here
no airport lounge / midnite swimming pool /          
                                 abandoned zoo / empty theatre
no hollow feeds of subway tunnels                          
no void on anything
where's my basic program ?                          
       not even a grid of human planted fir trees
                               or a giants causeway
   or some cellular honeycomb
                      or some mad carpet design
i lost the pattern tap
           i'm off the leash man
           it's all a mess
             a disarray
              organic chaos
                a foreign something
      that doesn't want me to connect
i want to live like i’m part of the solution
but   each day in struggle                                          
           it seems i'm increasingly an aspect of the problem
i need to be reigned in
        and reassigned a post   policed
police me        i croon for policing
                          i am untrustworthy
an emulsion of self deception          
            (what does that even mean ?)
         spinning turns in quick fix habits
i look at these hands
  and     if I could dream these hands
                 they’d be magicians of value
get back to me man ! i miss yupping with you
this is the important stuff
           
                                               ­             - message ends

'the kid' leaps  sudden  from bed                    
points  in fright  toward the 'hippy' curtains
                      "i'm scared of ghosts in pyjamas"

There's fierce work
Amoungst the Butchers
Tooling upon a diseased cattle cull
A mutter of meats
and turned pieces
To be discussed
by the Monies in charge
stained
wet and heated
Thick knit
Behind clothed doors.

hungry
belly growling
go    c a n n i b a l i s t i c
on   victims     of   my   appetite
people flee me with their tidy routine
t r a u m a t i c a l l y    busted up
meat flowers    devoured
my glutton grows
hungry

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

the meeting room inflates       mushroomed by vocal lashing
 nauseous and ugly welling
                      everyone's timely except the crucial host                      
top pockets and pens
                                                 stuffing of warmth
crucible of body gases and personal perfumes
no windows   /   low ceiling
               the vents clogged with dust and barnacles
one stifling roost

over the new mode room      a dominant black screen is vigilant
clocking the details    
scrapbooking the gloom
         (each rebel breath of mine   rivals the last)

there's an odd gap in the chitter-natter
dumbed silent punction to the point of audible body function
everybody is knocked from their element
plead broken this nervous moment...
..and someone does
            patricia hats a laugh
                                 and the flow re-bleats its motor    revived  
  

mike from c8 south
                                                   whinnies in my face
breath bad and bad coffee
he gaffles my energy
                            head bloods flood
and i can't hack it
                      this is where i get off        
                                  the worldly stutters me off the page
hot signal habits bunch
i am dudded

my distant avatar takes over                                             
              c­an it handle an idea of what i ought present ?
i am a kite operating the grounded pilot
i see him beam and nod dummy to conversation
representing ; i'll endure with this method         
i am only a member here              
    no sass of authority
my expected contribution need only be trivial

but then                                                             ­   
distant others look darkly through my reservoir
the gig is up     they know somethings contorted
i am drawing attention
what did my puppet say on my behalf ?
am i crooked and pale and wincing ?
am i laying out insult ?
these could be things
they concentrate through distorted waters
start chopping gestures
it is not liked and my auto options have failed
why can't we wash over this whole thing ?
we are dressed so nicely and it is only work
and breath and beating words
to replace peckerpits in the system
t h a t   i s    i t  !
the body crumples and exhibits
i whelm over it all
taking off as an apparition
moting higher still above the scene
i raise the ceiling some
but   represented   i lie on the floor
a rat ring of colleagues forms about me
some with baldness showing              
some dyed colours
one wears a fedora indoors
hunching over my mass
rodent strife

sully the mental stationary
process the progress
slurry

a reclaiming tide
each spring   the forrest laps
at my shanty door     then  retreats
nature demonstrates  to me
its permission

sour disappointment
as the mechanics
of something i admire
are explained to me

a thorough dissection
leaving it dead to me
spread over leaf litter
wide on the ground for me
probed with a needy childish stick
and bold light
and many angles
and leaning inspection
tiring out time with expanded explanation
i learn out its life
and turn to approach a fresh beauty
with a new notebook in hand

Maternal blanket blue
                a dose beyond the material weave
   lax in the saline fluid blue
                  of a gentle weeping
fluid blue
     the saline deep
deep
  drop
          til cold black
  but even
   so far from surface
so strange to light
growth swells
and bulbous blue
an attraction
toward life

.
you're at the front door                                    
you're in through the front door   my door 
  without knocking
face flushed with malice and ****** visions  
"uh-huh" i say
there's a cotten shopping bag                          
                    of who-fears-what   in one mitt
and you throw yourself                    
                   on my sunken couch
you unzip those mad pricy leather boots
with flames down the sides
and clutch your bag to your chest  
with meaning and taunt
        leaning toward
                  a smile  crocodiles your face
          your clock ; three forty seven
your mind ; immersed in some midnight woo
a witching verse and a fortune boastful and blue
am i to be involved in your clockwork mockery ?
(i have been your collaborator                          
              and coal mine canary in the past)
  do i even want to be invited ?
i don't know any better   i am  as always  excited
"alright, i'll bite .. what's in the bag ?" i say

Cancer of the Tooth & Lung
Cancer of the Lips & Tongue
Cancer of the Cheeks & Gum
Cancer collects under the Skin
& Numb
Cancer ; Fingertips & Thumb
Cancer spreads
Cancer on my Mind
& Dumb

Cancer greases your thinning Hair
Cancer ; the Features you select to Wear
Cancer subtracts the light from your Eyes
Cancer swells your pinkening grey Heart
Cancer in your Thought and Barking
Cancer Glows ;
Ever Phosphorus
In your Dark

Cancer ; what’s the Matter ?
Cancer ; where is my Head ?
Cancer in our Bicker
Cancer ; I’m drying Blind
Cancer on tap
& extra Cancer ...

Cancer from You to Me
Cancer won’t leave us be
Cancer from Me to You
Cancer confirms every Act we do
Cancer ; when we stay up late
Cancer Cultivates our Relation
whilst we Canker in Snared Hatred

bloom wounds brightly
ignition
ventilated scents      and the air is roused

the drunken door is open    issuing fumes
the loss of what society betrays    a deflated relaxed option
                                                          ­of empty rebellion

season away life   in mood with loss
fumed with the doorway    and its dark yawn
i am reminded of putting fruit flies 'to sleep'
                            in a school lab class

let rot my mental status                                                           ­       
to fruit the flies
billow the belly through the button                                          
                                                      throat the needle thru the eye
sleeve the lamb back into the mutton
and make a glutton
of our air supply
guff it all out
       flatus