Have you got enough
Till morning?
Enough
To make you sleep?
No dreams though
That's the trade off
Classified as
Sweet relief
From the
Drone and the roar
The pitch and the yaw
Nothing but
Restorative  slumber
Way past the dawn.

Of course
Eventually
Everyone gets used to hell
Insufferable torment
Deep in the infernal well
The problem is the timescale
And Satan knows it's true
The ones condemned
The earliest now tolerate it
Eternity through
But he's not worried really
To technology he aspires
What with nano devices
And the promise of AI.

A journey of a thousand miles
Starts with a single cough
Well it does
If it starts early morning
Followed by
A couple of hundred more.

When art
Drugs
And self importance
Collide
You know there's going to be
At least one poor innocent
*******
Who pays
With their life
Barrymore
Doherty
Aligs club kids
Spread deadly chaos
And didn't give a ****.

I gave myself a title I never earned
and now I write everyday praying it learns to accept me,
I'm no poet
I'm just a man fighting to keep hold of this pen .

The Tupperware lifted
Back to celestial cupboards
The leaves humming not
Just a couple of rustles

The sky a diluted icy blue
Dressed for the coming season
Nothing new

Laid out
Like some holy meal
You can almost taste the pale azure
That's how it makes you feel

Brittle sharp
And somewhat lethal
Edges get dulled
By soft soft clouds
For us poor mortals
Us poor people.

Could this be the rain?
The sky seems dark enough
Could this be the rain?
In the still
Of near midnight's hush
The clouds
Grab the bright full moon
And drag it away
Over the curvature
So we might have
A new day.