Christened on billiard paper Lo and fro, oh no Love comes to the town again And I am rendered spent A recalcitrant pen begging, "God knows when, He'll hurt my beard, rest me deep under again"
Mother! Mother! Hear my forlorn screams They are inauthentic They yearn to be redeemed
Father, you, sister! Watch this cold hand They were born spastic Neutered with a brand
A brand that loves to burn alone A brand that seethes, kiss the bone Take me to a walk in your grove I couldn't do anything in your cove Just a lover's weary shove Until you take me above There, the night will reign with a shadow
Translucent, red traffic light Belongs so comfortably No one made a fuss over its colour Just an instinct for the shade The perfect pigment No hustle, no alarm Being the man who ponders this Am I not allowed the breeze or the brevity? Are we blessed to fidget the cigarette? Cursed to be tense I imagine a mellow, white man Prancing on a set of traffic lights Naturally pristine and silky He plays in an explorative band Rock and roll on scalpels So smooth, that breathing Not a single itch I’m going to achieve such a feat One day I’ll be a queen *****
The sun and its veil drags along the humdrum path, like an old dog’s broken tooth, lodging itself into a decrepit chair. Right up its ****; where it belongs and longs to be loved. It suffocates, coagulates, and discombobulates the bowery citizens within the pearl atolls. By the rims of the gates, Moses receives ******* while a sojourning sheik blasts the radio. Meanwhile, the teats of Atlas are duly pounded as the mortals are aroused and grounded. Never beholden to ecumenist beauty, life lives on, defying questions. It festoons its lexicon of self-defeat and the synonyms that we waste sun on; A halcyon is redacted before long. I am left at the teeth of a sycophant and a broad-shouldered man who I adore in dangerous elan. Epigrams foist themselves upon the masts, the masts that sail us o’er the soot of the ocean, and land us flippantly onto the crystalline concentration line which is a-gaping wide. The orifice of a primordial awaits us.
By the 1960s, a disillusionment with Nationalism and war was permeating within the public consciousness.
Man: jazz. Jazz! Everything sounds like jazz when you lend your hears an oscilloscope. You know what j-a-z-z sounds like? Well, it’s sweet, serendipitous or nonsensical, nihilistic. Modern in stainless steel or anachronistic in brass. Jazz! So what? Jazz sounds like anything that’s everything and vice versa. It’s a limb of that omniscient looker up and over: the tune itself. Oh, the tune? It’s what lies between your fingers when you’re writing, forging, loving, giving, perishing. You strut with the frequency of a conduit, but an unaware one at that. A change is gonna come in mere years, I know that much. Everyone will be deloused in the pain of the world; Mother Sympathy for all, even the charlatans who hide behind their crimson fur! All I’m saying is, whoever brings it ought to be from this place. I can’t fathom a recalcitrant extraterrestrial handling our own business at the expense of their planet’s water supply. I’m excited for whatever comes, believe me. So long as it ends me and with me.
We were together Staring out at the black sea; A void in some backwater alley Of central Bangkok.
You were laughing at its beauty And like the stars I stared blankly, Looking for everything I could not see.
Alternating undercurrent Of raw sewage and street-food spice, Alive in the shadow Of a searing neon skyline, The moon made of bone; We blacken our lungs Six thousand miles from home.
Set in greed for *** and company, The familiar lilt of Latin tongues. In a dream I still need to breathe, Still need to feel the heat of love Or at least the touch of anyone.
I lean, habit-ridden Over the railings of misspelled lovers That carved their names half-drunk With hotel keys Into the dandelion paint, That with gradual loss, Succumbs to the traffic And falls in the breeze.
You wept at the sentiment. I baulked in their loss. I drew you in closer To keep hold of this dream, Before the night fades, Before time has forgot,
Before life pulls us apart, Before love loosens its knot.