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Lost games
Longer lost rules
Night-time crimes
Lungs full
Of pungent smoke
Bellies full of *****
And heads full of
Something
And nothing

A kind of homage
To a kind of music
Riding across vinyl
And even crackling shellac
And the dead man's foot
Still taps inside the coffin
Refusing to relinquish
The hard-wired hammer
The outlaw life
Is hard in the dying

                                    By Phil Roberts
they taught us to fear
without learning to fear us
we're reaping the whirlwind
they've sown between us
one day they'll realise
they didn't defeat us
we are on the inside
their malignant fetus
I lit a candle in midday
and watched how quickly
I'd forget about it

When your gaze shifts
and our eyes meet
I feel like a cookie crumble

He told me the palm of my hand
smells like cookie dough;
I was baked for you

I bet if animals could speak,
we wouldn't get along as much

How many times do I need to say
"there are some things better left unsaid"
before you finally understand?
Doom laden
Light my way
With candle of blackest tallow
And flame of brightest white
I follow my nature
My gravitation
Without question

Godless and lawless
Out of the wild I came
Still wet and trembling
Hairless and bared to all
I lived off the fruit of the land
And open to the sky
As is the way of my kind

What did I know of fences?
Or of lines on a map
All I saw was plenty for all
I knew nothing of money
I knew only being fed and being hungry
So they called me thief
They called me savage

Doom laden
Light my way
With candle dripping tallow
And flame of dimmest red
With hesitation I follow
Stumbling and lost no doubt
Yet still I follow

                              By Phil Roberts
 May 2017 Nico Reznick
Chris Vans
I left you in the woods
Now you can haunt me
 Apr 2017 Nico Reznick
JP
Life
 Apr 2017 Nico Reznick
JP
In
Middle class family
being Son
listening to Dad
Then
After retirement
Now
It's reverse
Being Dad
listening to son..
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