The aliens looked at earth
And its civilisations
Like we see mayflies
And their small streams
And they looked at civilisations
Wax and wane
On a small blue marble
And one said
"Shall we stop it?
That agar plate has gone a bit out of hand"
To which the other replied
"No, they'll tire themselves out eventually"

Telling me to write it differently
But can you carve my feelings?
Because the words I chose so carefully
Are part of my minds reelings

I’ve lain myself down for all to see
Although hidden a few brush strokes
I am these words, these words are me
Or is it all a hoax?

Why write down in rhythmic structure
Simple workings of the mind
When all they are is basic thoughts
Written behind the rules of rhyme

Pretending to rhyme a with b
when im fitting problem and solution
Pretend to write a simple poem
When im clearing my confusion

I used to turn up late
I used to take the long way home
I used to stay up in ecstasy or agony until the first lights of day
But I woke up today and found myself trapped
By the 6:45 alarm
By a bowl of Musli
By brushing my molars
By the No. 27 bus
By my desk chair
Colleagues
Targets
And slowly you smile
And nod
As they take you away
From yourself
Somehow

Something interesting happened today
I stitched the pansexual symbol
To the back of my denim jacket
And went into town
Most people didn't get it
But a few did
And their jaws hit the ground
And that made it worth it

Like spit in the fire
Like seed in the snow
******
And a solemn me

We two boys together clinging
Absinthe drinking
Paradise garage dancing
Old people alarming
Tower top gazing
Hands clutching
Discordant steps searching
Sound of you falling
Giovanni's room emulating
Stop the lift kissing
Separated
Then returning
And turning
Swinging
Dancing
2-stepping
Laughing
Crying
In
Bars
Clubs
Roofs
Rooms
Corridors
Parks
Shops
Seats
Cinemas
Streets
And then returning
Hands clasping
Lips locking
On our mattress
Fulfilling our foray

The moon is half full tonight
My spleen is twice as big tonight
And in my horniness
I hope for a nondescript passerby
To knock on my door
And wrestle the sadness away with me
No questions asked
But no one comes
And I wonder how many others feel so hopeless tonight

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

It's crazy how you can be at the right place at the right time
And become a millionaire
Or the wrong place at the wrong time and die In a gutter
And how arbitrarily these people are chosen
And how many things we can invent
To make it all seem like it makes sense

Don't think about how it makes you feel
And then use the most powerful words you know to portray it
Don't write a line, then use rhymezone to fit in with your ******* couplets
Don't use the flowery words of dead poets
Thus
Glimmer
Hope
Love
I've seen these rearranged a thousand times
Fruitlessly
Write it how it is
If it is beautiful
Then so will be the thing you write
It is the only way

I roll up
and lubricate my thoughts
they spiel
the sky crashes down
and the furniture is shaking now
the bed is jettisoned
the outside whispers
nonthreateningly  
a perfection forms

One man on a mattress
out there
is a utopia

the smoke rings live my lips
in lign
forming a long
oooo
that floats
dances
falls and rises
around me
and i am wrapped in smoke
and dusty memories
on this december sunday

And the radio did play
As you sank deep into your chair
With eyes that said
Let the robots take over
Then the grass
Then the fire
Over and over

Me and my brothers
We are raised tall and defiant
We are rallied and railed against
An apathetic world at which we spit
We spiel our ululations to the night sky
Our candles burn at both ends

We rise to get broken
Here comes ocean
Icarus wouldn't be a legend
If he hadn't aimed for heaven

A mess of thighs and hair and love
We ******
For the same reason
That kids throw rocks at the sea

Grindin'
With the cogs
In Moloch
When we could be diving for pearls

If you miss a beat
You create a new one
**** metre

I remember through the haze of Hong Thong and Thai Stick
Our sterile love
In that shabby hotel
In Chiang Mai
Our stubble
Like Velcro
And I don't remember much else
Wasting away
Here
It's funny how you forget things
It's also crushingly sad

I had an outer body experience in a lift
While I was throwing up in the corner
I was suddenly the reporter behind me
Looking at a young Nietzsche
Sick and tormented by Wagner's ring in Bayreuth
But this didnt really happen
Because I imagined the reporters
And I didn't throw up
I was only a bit sick at myself
For seeing this
Going up to the 5th floor
In the lift

Midnight seeps
Through
And one man is between his sheets
With something stirring beneath the pleats
And he wrestles his dusty memories
He relives and reviles them
And why is the night so dark?
And why does it make us damage ourselves?

Your anatomy laid bare for me
Your silhouette in the dim light
And other things that can make a good man
Unreasonable

Door closed
Locking out the perfect faces on the billboards
Shielding two more from the broadcasts of unobtainable lifestyles
As our souls speil, soar and reel in the dark
As we descend into the milky cosmos
As the space between two sheets is filled with love

When the sage points to the moon
The idiot watches the finger
And we
Simply use the finger to gouge out each others eyes

I know all these people who life pulls by the hand
Life never let's them get any rest
It tells them to sit up straight
But then gives them good chairs to slouch on
It tells them to be sociable
But then puts beer down their throat
And makes them sociable only sometimes
These people get no rest
And if they slip they just get dragged along

And all these people need to dig their feet in
They need to make their life go at the right pace
Or the right direction

Alone on a mattress
Next to my ideal love
That one in the head
(S)he's a shape shifter
And always fits in neatly
With my lunacy

Sitting in room 203
And can't sleep
Sitting upright
Staring at the door
With unfocused eyes
Imaging true love on the other side
For so long
That I can almost picture it
I edge towards the door
Just in case
Turn the handle
And sear it

Smoke bursts through
And crackling flames invade the room
I choke on the fumes
The hotel is on fire
I guess I was right

If you want to cross a sea
Sink

When you go from being a producer to a consumer
everybody knows
you’re going to have to dance to the producers beat
you
CONSUME
education
you
CONSUME
your
individual style
you
CONSUME
yourself
because you are
a brand

There was human hair
On the floor of the metro
How did it get there?

You are reading a poem
And with most poems
You need to pay attention
So that you don't miss anything
You might even need to re-read a line or so
But don't worry
Not this one

Too many **** poems
About not being able to sleep
Wide awake
Open eyes
Sweat
And thoughts
The usual ****
Why not talk about the thoughts?
It’s like writing a story about a pen
Or painting your brush

We stood infront of each other
Ripping off chunks of flesh
Mixed with matted hair
We gouged eyes
Struck bone
Tore strips of skin
As pools formed at our feet
And kept going
Clawing at cartiledge
Pulling at intestines
Until we got to the core
And we were both bare
That was our love

Thinking about painless deaths
but decide to go out
on a flimsy bike
pointed nowhere instead
If some ******* is going to get me
it won't be me

Thank you
for giving me something to hate
because otherwise
my mind would turn to black holes
and that shot of the earth from the Apollo mission
and how much darkness there truly is

Just the dull sighing of cars
As they float by my window
Projecting trailing shadows across the wall
Just the pale gleam of the moon
As it barely lights up the earth
And just a small man
In his bed
Seeing this
Hearing this
In this
But incapable of grappling with this
And what this is

In the cold dead of space
The voyager one
Floating forth
With dark was the night
By Blind Willie Johnson
Engraved onto a gold plated disk
In its belly
So fitting

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

There was a saint at the bar last night
He wore a battered shirt
And had uneven stubble
He cradled his beers
Peeling the labels off out of boredom
If you looked closely you could see the early signs of a receding hair line
And bags under his eyes
All he had said in three days
Was "beer" and "thanks"
He didn't look like a saint
And no one went home with him that night
And he ate 50 aspirin
And he wasn't at the bar the next day
Or the next
But he was a saint

Threadbare and naked
Shattered in ruins in front of you
Cold trembling leaves of your autumn
To my naive spring
Here
All I ask
Is for your limps
To unhinge
For you
To let me in
For me
To loose myself
To you
For however long
That may be
Take this longing from my tongue
And all the useless things these hands have done

I am by the sea
And I have left behind
A girl too good for me
And the sea swells to my libido
As it crashes on the earth
And bruises the sky
And you could write a masterpiece here
Or you could just try to forget

On monday
I will have to brush shoulders
with artless people
in an artless world
but for now
I have Songs from a Room
and Dave Bixby
and the stumbling hours of a Sunday afternoon

My friend has a stain in his **** bowl
And it's a bit disgusting
But at least it gives you something to aim for
And it's always good to have something to aim for
Even if it is just a stain
In a **** bowl

Didn't want to make a splash
In those days when we were
Strapped for cash
And we lay indolently
Took things intravenously

Don't want to make a splash
As I skip stones on your lake
But If I leave a wake
Then baby ride the waves I make

We are born with the capacity to love everyone
To find anything sexually gratifying
We are conditioned otherwise
**** condition
Seek to deregulate
Seek to push
Seek to love

These French keyboards
Have the n's and m's all mixed up
And you end up typing
Facebook.con
I like these French keyboards

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

It's hard to know when to call it a night
It might never be
But hold me
Let's see

Is a stock character

I lost myself between your limbs
But found myself in your smile

I'm unhealthy, badly
You see..
Rotting, sadly
And I'd take you back
Gladly

I can sense a great sadness in you
You may wrap a large jacket around your shoulders
And curl up into a ball at night
But the sadness shines through
The tight ball
And the large jacket
You bring it with you to the streets
And you cut slices of it off for the people you talk to

I hope that one day
The cork
Holding it all in there
Pops out