The poetry
It has spilled
Like the blood of a great massacre
And it has diluted
To a near transparent film
Over the 21st century
Over Miley Cyrus' ***
Over grotesquely distorted salaries
It lingers in the grey concrete behemoths of utilitarian cities
It's on your cat
It's in your parents hair
It's in Angela Merkells teeth
And this omnipresent film
That only few can see
Is evaporating into a backdrop incandescent beauty
It's vaporising into an intoxicating nectar
It's what slavery was to the blues
Or the reconstructions of war to bauhaus
Or what the crusades were to the renaissance
So twerk on Miley
Your artlessness
Makes art stronger by the day

The introvert
Felt shooting pains up and down his arm
It was a heart attack
But he had no one to call
And he died

You're going to die
But there's a list of the 30 best cat selfies on buzzfeed
Something is going on in Ukraine, or is it Venezuela?
But it's ok...
Sherlock is back on
And you haven't finished Game of Thrones yet
God is a twisted sadist if he exists at all
But you have some notifications on Facebook
Don't think,
Just pick up the phone and play Flappy Bird
Let the feelies get to those thoughts that creep in

The revolution wasn't televised
It was tweeted
And its auto-tune remix went viral the next day

As I puff
And and **** sadly
On carbon monoxide,
Nicotine
And
5000 others
I think of Nixon, Maggie
And other incarnations of the devil
And realise
That in the end
Time
Is the greatest dicator

The skyline was beautiful on fire
All twisted metal reaching upwards
The water wars
The great migrations
The barbarity of a thousand roving clans
The infertility
And the old used as meat
Had made love a distant memory to those remaining
But tumbling over scraps
Navigating through shards
Gnawing at withered roots
Lapping at acrid streams
We went on
All we had done was hope better

World that's not real
Love.
Love that's not real enough for me.

Hollow sound
Distant voice
Tense strings

Love that's not real enough for me.

Resonant chimes
Brooding bass
Drawn out *****

Thank you Gloria Ann Taylor

My best friend was a dog called Hermes
And he's long gone
And a wise man once said
That love is a dog from hell