It was 5 o'clock in the morning
and the elderly man with the cake
shifted nervously back and forth
recounting his days as a ballerina
his face was aglow
he was a liar to himself
and easily embarrassed.

I met her in a place I hadn't been before
A place of solitude behind an ever-open door
The reception was deeply clinical as she took me to a place
Where a body's just a butcher’s thought and a face is just a face.

there's something about Josephine
or is my mind playing games
the quick assembly Gatling gun
the lion doll that tames

i met her on the Waltzer where
she fed me tales so strange
the fermented dog in a salty lake
the rifle without a range

an evening in a sparse living room
one chair, one fire and a screen
an ensuite rubber holding cell
a kitchen cat and cream

there's something about Josephine
i love her smile for sure
her collection of multi-vitamins
Her urge to cure and cure

She told me of the horse that flew
The horse with a name that Egyptians knew
She told me of the hanging tree
With roots that cried and caressed the dew
She told me tales of a lightening storm
That flashed an Eskimo cold to warm

     And in her eyes I saw other stories
     Just as important as Dali's glories

Jane sat on a pine kitchen chair in the corner
of the room. In her left hand she held nineteen
ninety-nine, in her other, my eyes. I kissed her
on the cheek and asked her a question.

She told me of a white paper brick
That glided through air six foot thick
She told me of Christians that got wasted at lent
That prayed for the light through a gap in a tent
She told me of Magritte, ******* and Turner
And a boy in India selling organs as an earner

     And in her eyes I saw other stories
     As bright as the Ursa's universal glories

I asked Jane another question and she fused
It must have been the sixth time in a month
Gordon Fussey
Written by
Gordon Fussey
(M)

For I found a place
Where I truly belong
In the arms of a ghost
Full speed headlong

Living a dream
In a state of shock
Solid gone, cloud nine
Bright as Bangkok

Reality checking
Velvet soft skin
A vision of utopia
An angel within

Left the world
With an imaginary friend
Came back to earth
With a soul to vend

          A lifetime in two months
          And how the people laughed

Lavender

Going there again hey boys
Down to utopia amongst the hair and toys
The reason's thin but my mind is keen
Down to the depths where angels are seen

Honeysuckle

She wore dancing shoes and a wide loving grin
A latex smile on a hairy chin
An illusionary nurse stood in wonder
As I touched her skin to release the thunder

Petrol fumes

Stifled walk shuffling forward on and on
Bowed head stooping cowering into view
Here I am again moving in a time bygone
A sawdust floor under a Squire shoe

Violets

Never said I loved you
Never said I cared
Never reached your mind
With a problem shared
Never touched your heart
Never held your hand
Never wanted a part
In a final stand

Bletilla Striata

Happy-go-lucky or as miserable as sin
Whatever you feel you just can't win
The girls aren't biting, there's nothing there
Except Polly's lips…  I'm in her hair


Lily Of The Valley

I looked around, she  wasn't there
Where there was hope there was now despair
I moved a bit then set my ground
She was a special affair, one that was sound

A place that seldom mattered
Became a place that often flattered
A meeting of ever flowing drinks
Of fake ideas and numerous blinks
For fallen men there became a shoulder
A wooden rest to become much bolder
Thereto I became a permanent fixture
Of gigantic proportions a sorry picture
There I stayed 'till all was lost
An unbelievable shell at an unbelievable cost
Those were the days I care to remember
A total blitz from January to December