Satisfaction is impossible
Still stubborn hope arises
From a heart that aches
And throbs for distraction

For a word a touch a taste
Will push away discomfort
Dispell despair and doom
Carefully Close the chasm

A language without words
Seals the gaping gashes
Knit from time and touch
Becomes a healing action

my eyes are drawn
to two seagulls
perched contentedly on
a ****-caked lamp post
nothing decorative
lacking flourish or accent
a simple narrowing pole
coloured inexplicably green
with gently domed cowls
that gulls and pigeons
seemingly frequent
marred by a combination
of cream brown white
for all i know
it could be
their own faeces
in which they stand
or it could be
weathered and aged
built up and dried in place
for days
for months
for years
perhaps even decades
never to return
to untarnished days
perhaps if the bulb blew
or the lamp failed completely
it might be restored
while it is repaired
but there is no
guarantee of that
and yet the birds
could not care less
they'll pay no heed
to that which is less
than perfection
treating this evidently
well-favoured resting place
the same as they would
an unmarred branch
protected amongst tree tops
or a dainty bird-bath
amidst the flowers
of someone's quaint garden

You were the wall I planned to keep
Breaking myself against
A breathless distraction to chase the
Thoughts right out of my head
Glassy-eyed
I wanted to run wild with you all night
I wanted all your pretty nonsense to be real
And if I had to bet
On every bone in my body
I'd say the same was true of you

It's a shame you left me to my own devices
For we sketched such a beautiful
Delusion

distracter,
pacifier,
mixer,
moving the ******
away like a sailor,
distracter,
distractor.

Right after the first

news our ideas start running --


away from ourselves.

If you think about ***
while getting your eyebrows threaded,
it doesn’t hurt nearly as much.

I was transfixed by
That wandering eye, a spec
In a cup of milk