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the provocative dress i wore tonight

made you wonder if i wore it for you

i could feel your stare the whole night

watching as my body flowed

underneath the fluorescent lights

you noticed all my details

how i held my drink in my hand

how deep my curves were

how all the men in the club,

were doing the same as you

the one thing you all failed to notice

is what i hid underneath

you all failed to see the scar above my lip

and the fact that i chew my nails too often

and the purple galaxies that litter my skin,

under the confines of my dress
Tim Benjamin Apr 2014
To the girl sitting next to me in poetry club
I want to tell you that you look beautiful,
Beautiful like in the way the summer sun bends around the north pole because it refuses to set its constant and lasting
Just like the way my heart jumped the moment i saw you for the first time and it has refused to come down
Everytime since, when i see you, although i have never been much of a dreamer, i daydream about all the things i want to do to you like...
Make you smile... or blush
So that my daydreams will have the perfect backdrop of love to memorize your every freckle, and then i want to drink the smile i put on your face beause i know it is the only thing that can quench my thirst
I want to tell you that I want to learn ballet, just so i can catch you everytime you jump and make sure that ill never let you fall... unless it's for me...
I want to learn to draw
Because I want to draw my way into your life, van gogh my way into your past present and future, i want to spend my whole life with you, and on your dying day i want to roundhouse kick death for even thinking of taking you away from me
But most of all i want to make you... happy
Happy in a way that is unexplainable
Like why do birds suddenly appear everytime you are near
It would be to easy to say that just like me they long to be close to you
And i want it to be unexpected like when you fall asleep after a long day
Slowely at first and then it engulfs you completely
I want to tell you that I want you to be able to feel the sunlights warm caress even on the darkest of days
And on days when you can't see the stars in the night sky
I will cut stars out of my paper heart
Even though they always seem to rip when held in hands that aren't careful enough
and then I want to hang them from your ceiling
So you will always have something beautiful to look at
And if you would just notice me i promise that i can love you like that...
But instead when i finally noticed that you caught me staring at you about 15 minutes ago... i opened my mouth and instead of all the soliloquies that dance through my head whenever you saunter into a room all that came out was hi...... howve you been.
I think it was a good start.
Balcony perch,
Romeo's known role reversed,
Juliet below in harmonious search,
What's a name really worth?
Laying around
about the dorm room
Bored
Looking for quick
****** cash
We came upon a listing
My roommate and I
in the local paper
Artist models needed
No experience necessary
That was key

The guy on the phone was chirpy
He lived
Close by in Oakland
He gave us directions to where
He would pick the two of us up
We
Would take the bus
He would be in a station wagon
Beige

He met us sure enough
Old
Old as the ******* sea
Formal suit and tie
Maybe a hat
We drove back to the apartment
And entered
First my roommate
And then myself

A ****** yellowed set of rooms
Where we will be heading to the right
To the kitchen
I’ve noticed the battered ***** *****
Mattress
Also
To the right
Stains and an attached clamp lamp
A single stark bulb

We were greeted by an even chirpier young lady
She was like a baby Joan Jett
All rocker black and leather
Sleek hair slicked back
She seemed somehow to like
really really old men

She took over and reached
for the plastic folder
She handed it to us
You need to look at this before we go on
This is what we do

Obediently, we cracked it open
and peered inside
Bent over we studied
Sticky plastic pages
Of brightly faced girls
Page
After
Page
Smiling with awkward innocence
No bright eyes or youthful effanescance
No desire
Nothing wet
Except their palms with thoughts of escape
And 100 dollars

I only remember the girls whose makeup faded around the neck to betray
the true color of their flesh
Not flushed at all with desire
They left no impression in their nakedness
Ghosts
Shades
They should have been in class or doing something else

But our Joan!
Joan was a star.
Her photos were full of sass and delight
She was more than happy to show you her ******
Over and over and over
She said
Actually
it’s a club
The guys pay a monthly fee
And they come here and shoot
In the apartment or maybe outside
They cannot touch.
There is no *******.
Mostly they shoot
Me.

Alone.
A Pixie Star.
This was were that old man’s money was.

I don’t remember what she told us
she used to do before
this had to be a moment
A rather short moment
She would move along because
This kink was overstuffed with impotence
and ineptitude.
Kink that might be easier to deal
With
On a properly lit stage
Or a quiet hotel room.
Cash up front.

But for now
She was the enterprise.
What would he do without her?
We three giggled and guffawed
in the little kitchenette.
We weren’t game for the arrangement.
She knew that. But she liked to talk.
Men like that are pathetic.

Why would we do this?
All those faces in the book
Four on a page
Excitedly, we thought that we recognized
A face or two
I know her!
Look I know her!
I’m sure we did not know any of them.

The mattress.
I could not fathom what happened on that thing.
I don’t want to know.
I had to look the other way as we left.
Did he perform
Abortions?
With hangers and kitchenware
Can ******* be that messy?
Just opening your legs?

We said goodbye to her!
She was wonderful.
She would sparkle forever.
Joan Jett!
Piling back into this hoarder’s
station wagon amongst
the musty boxes and newspapers
He drove us
to the bus stop
A waste of his time
Disgruntled
Failure

He asked
How should this ad read so that
this doesn’t happen again?
We offered no suggestions.
It had been fun
However idiotic.
I don’t remember
how long it was that
we kept our bus trip
secret.
thelemonpolice Jul 2018
What a pretty holiday
I wish that I had gone
But did you know that all they did
was post it on their phones?

What amazing friends they have
I wish that I had more
but actually these people have just met
and are a bore

What a funny club night
I feel left out again
Well maybe its another way
to drown out all the pain

What a lovely boyfriend
He bought her lovely gifts
but do you know that hes repaying
her for all his sins?

Pretty pretty wedding pictures
for everyone to see
did you know he sometimes
"accidentally" makes her bleed

happy shopping family
filling up a cart
did you know the parents
can't grow love in their hearts?

Happy, smiling faces
I wonder what they've seen
and why they have to force a smile
on pictures on this screen

Lovely posing woman
why do you hold your breath?
How many pictures did it take
to make you look your best?

Is it worth it? Is it needed?
to get approval from your 'friends'?
Are we worthy? Are we needed?
does it matter end?
Wow thank you so much for all the attention of this poem. It really means a lot. If you liked this, check out my YouTube channel too https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=pjcwyTocBqI ❤️
Jon Thenes Jul 2018
[Disclaimer : Collection edited from previous works for the purpose of competition.]

Notes during Jane’s night out
and its afterbathe.


Observe :

when your heart's beating overtime
you drool poison in your sleep
and you're looking down
on this wound of slaughter
simply turn your head
and repress the urge
for mischief
mirth
and laughter

Jane’s prayer of control


Observe :

Deathlessness 
becomes my Oedipus
Restlessness, my Vein
I spy from the Windows
upon the Exterior ;
It's Humid, Night and Rain
I pave my Thoughts ; 
all bark and froth
I Pound Drinks
It Powers tight my Bellows
I Hound the Clock
My energy thrives out a fan of nerves
I create an idea of what's soon to be
A plan of posable culture
forms flossy in my Tide
and
(as the Night Out steps up)
It Bites firm in my mind

I stride across the threshold
Betraying nothing
Of the Savage I've put together
Slough Suited in neat Disguise.


Observe :

Raw Meat and Red Teeth
I'm a Bow to the Moon
I Click over Cobbles
A Mad Energy
Bailed in my Stomach
I Task Myself
Open
And Daring Prey to Cross the Tension
Strung on my Senses
All Hot Gut and Wire
I'm Playing at Being
A Wild and Mean Thing
And I am Dedicated to this Wound.


Observe Others :

The exclusive clubbers present their cards of invite
And go swiftly about the social wetwork 
Their practices and manners 
Interact and ply
Pulling teeth of the guises
Harvesting an inflammation of words
A baffle of tongue chorings 
There is an hour
There follow more
Whittling time
Taming code
Resorting to a little physical...
Then they take their leave ;
Prizes into the nights snare.


Observe My Racing Brain :

Let’s put Sleep to Death
And purify madness
We shall practice giddy boils of imagination
Bright
And quick lives could flare
Brief celebrities
Hastily added
To this new chattering evolution
There'd be little lung for morals
And sorrows would be swift experiments
Let's make all lives what they really are
Put Sleep to Death
And be recognized
As blurs
As shots 
As stars and spittings
Firing in this universe
This playground
This raw wash of activity


Observe my Near Miss :

gunbeat
memory fleeing ;
murrums over soils
stresses and seas
desaturation
my colourless meat
mind down
hasty retreat
coma tones
my last retreat
failing the game
and foul on my feet

but then spoiled warmth floods back
my sponge reforms
damaged
but re-soaked
current again


Observe Hospital Stay :

Talisman
Brighter than a new spawned sage
Appears to me.
Abyss-less
It lisps of rest
And passes me its clay.
Obedient
I foster a dent
And begin to draw my feed.


Observe my learning :

take a breath
expel a myth
pattern a thought
create an action
reset and repetitude


Observe a Single Step :

This is a Me
(hands indicate body that they are a part of)
A responsive sock of meats
flush with The Other
and stringy with Thinker

From The Other 
operations may be performed
Within this mix
a View dwells
this could be said
to be a Me

The Being makes
a physical step forward
A Me indicated that it ought to
and it did


Observing Spark Plug :

...and 'oh my God' did I cry
I sparked like I was made of knives
and it carried me
I was adopted
I was addressing reasoning
burying it fiercely and fare
pounding clay over it
and enhancing my surroundings
content
yet
without trust
re-start
welled and sad
sick excited
a primal plug 
connected
and this world had once seemed so borrowed, adolescent and unpracticed.
2019 competition version
a weathered brain              Jane’s night out

Observe my Control Prayer

when your heart's beating overtime
and you drool poison in your sleep
and you're looking down
on this wound of slaughter
simply turn your head
and repress the urge
for mischief
mirth
and laughter

Observe

Deathlessness 
becomes my Oedipus
Restlessness, my Vein
I spy from the Windows
upon the Exterior ;
It's Humid, Night and Rain
I pave my Thoughts ; 
all bark and froth
I Pound Drinks
It Powers tight my Bellows
I Hound the Clock
My energy thrives out a fan of nerves
I create an idea of what's soon to be
A plan of posable culture
forms flossy in my Tide
and
(as the Night Out steps up)
It Bites firm in my mind
I stride across the threshold
Betraying nothing
Of the Savage I've put together
Slough Suited in neat Disguise.

Raw Meat and Red Teeth
I'm a Bow to the Moon
I Click over Cobbles
A Mad Energy
Bailed in my Stomach
I Task Myself
Open
And Daring Prey
To Cross the Tension
Strung on my Senses
All Hot Gut and Wire
I'm Playing at Being
A Wild and Mean Thing
And I am Dedicated to this Wound.

Observing Others Socially

Any platter but this sick heat beating sink of interbeing
With its ******* music and rapid lighting
Exclusive clubbers present their cards of invite
Go swiftly about the social wetwork 
Their manners interact and ply
Pulling teeth of the guises
Harvesting an inflammation of words
A baffle of tongues choring
There is an hour
There follow more
Whittling time
Taming code
Resorting to a little physical...
Then they take their leave ;
Prizes into the nights snare.

Observe Racing Brain

Put Sleep to Death
And purify madness
We shall practice giddy boils of imagination
Bright
And quick lives flare
Brief celebrities
Hastily added
To this new chattering evolution
There'd be little lung for morals
And sorrows would be swift experiments
Let's make all lives what they really are
Put Sleep to Death
And be recognized
As blurs
Shots 
As stars and spittings
Firing in this universe
This playground
This raw wash of activity

Observe Overdose  

gunbeat
memory fleeing ;
murrums over soils
stresses and seas
desaturation
my colourless meat
mind down
hasty retreat
coma tones
my last retreat
failing the game
foul on my feet

but then spoiled warmth floods back
my sponge reforms
damaged
but re-soaked
current again

Observe Hospital

Talisman
Brighter than
A new spawned sage
Appears to me.

Abyss-less
It lisps of rest
And passes me its clay.

Obedient
I foster a dent
And begin to draw my feed.

Observe Lesson

take a breath
expel a myth
pattern a thought
create an action
reset
repeat

Observe Step

This is a Me
(hands indicate body
that they are a part of)
A responsive sock of meats
flush with The Other
and stringy with Thinker

From The Other 
operations may be performed
Within this mix
View dwells
this could be said
to be a Me

Being makes
a physical step forward
A Me indicated that it ought to
and it did

Observing Spark Plug

...and 'oh my God' did I cry
I sparked like I was made of knives
and it carried me
I was adopted
I was addressing reasoning
burying it fiercely and fare
pounding clay over it
and enhancing my surroundings
content
yet
without trust
re-start
welled and sad
sick excited
a primal plug 
connected
and this world had once seemed so borrowed, adolescent and unpracticed

I throw up.






a weathered brain

Jane’s night out




Observe my Control Prayer

when your heart's beating overtime
and you drool poison in your sleep
and you're looking down
on this wound of slaughter
simply turn your head
and repress the urge
for mischief
mirth
and laughter





Observe

Deathlessness 
becomes my Oedipus
Restlessness, my Vein
I spy from the Windows
upon the Exterior ;
It's Humid, Night and Rain
I pave my Thoughts ; 
all bark and froth
I Pound Drinks
It Powers tight my Bellows
I Hound the Clock
My energy thrives out a fan of nerves
I create an idea of what's soon to be
A plan of posable culture
forms flossy in my Tide
and
(as the Night Out steps up)
It Bites firm in my mind

I stride across the threshold
Betraying nothing
Of the Savage I've put together
Slough Suited in neat Disguise.

Raw Meat and Red Teeth
I'm a Bow to the Moon
I Click over Cobbles
A Mad Energy
Bailed in my Stomach
I Task Myself
Open
And Daring Prey
To Cross the Tension
Strung on my Senses
All Hot Gut and Wire
I'm Playing at Being
A Wild and Mean Thing
And I am Dedicated to this Wound.




Observing Others Socially

Any platter but this sick heat beating sink of interbeing
With its ******* music and rapid lighting
Exclusive clubbers present their cards of invite
Go swiftly about the social wetwork 
Their manners interact and ply
Pulling teeth of the guises
Harvesting an inflammation of words
A baffle of tongues choring
There is an hour
There follow more
Whittling time
Taming code
Resorting to a little physical...
Then they take their leave ;
Prizes into the nights snare.








Observe Racing Brain

Put Sleep to Death
And purify madness
We shall practice giddy boils of imagination
Bright
And quick lives flare
Brief celebrities
Hastily added
To this new chattering evolution
There'd be little lung for morals
And sorrows would be swift experiments
Let's make all lives what they really are
Put Sleep to Death
And be recognized
As blurs
Shots 
As stars and spittings
Firing in this universe
This playground
This raw wash of activity




Observe Overdose  

gunbeat
memory fleeing ;
murrums over soils
stresses and seas
desaturation
my colourless meat
mind down
hasty retreat
coma tones
my last retreat
failing the game
foul on my feet

but then spoiled warmth floods back
my sponge reforms
damaged
but re-soaked
current again



Observe Hospital

Talisman
Brighter than
A new spawned sage
Appears to me.

Abyss-less
It lisps of rest
And passes me its clay.

Obedient
I foster a dent
And begin to draw my feed.




Observe Lesson

take a breath
expel a myth
pattern a thought
create an action
reset
repeat


















Observe Step

This is a Me
(hands indicate body
that they are a part of)
A responsive sock of meats
flush with The Other
and stringy with Thinker

From The Other 
operations may be performed
Within this mix
View dwells
this could be said
to be a Me

Being makes
a physical step forward
A Me indicated that it ought to
and it did




Observing Spark Plug

...and 'oh my God' did I cry
I sparked like I was made of knives
and it carried me
I was adopted
I was addressing reasoning
burying it fiercely and fare
pounding clay over it
and enhancing my surroundings
content
yet
without trust
re-start
welled and sad
sick excited
a primal plug 
connected
and this world had once seemed so borrowed, adolescent and unpracticed

I throw up.
I hear the cancer.
It carries me through
waves of light.

I look upon the grave.
It no longer looks
like a playful
kite.
LJDC Aug 2018
First it was fright,
Then there was courage.
I took a step then there was I,
Pretty...
Confident...
Unsure...
Scared?
Then the music came so loud,
It made me deaf of myself
It was a loud as the silence in my room,
The only difference is I'm not alone.

In a room full of people,
I saw you.
You and your ignorance.
You and the memories you left me with.
A scribble of words at the back of my planner
CK Baker May 2017
like that pill bitter Sunday morning (after)
with a nauseating hack
the previously uneventful Tuesday
derailed
in surrealistic tale
with Auntie and Jack (and a quarter of fate)
in the 748
on a night flight
from Sherwood to Lore

reverberating waves
of imminent summer haze
river flats
and flower fields
fly weights
and silver bait
shredders and shysters
and open gates
(into those everlasting
and sweated journeys of hope)

bloods and strays
and florentine grays
(reminiscent of Rockwell fame)
running horses
and overgrown country lanes
morning grace
and gentle cheer
eyes clear
on the river pass
blunted paddles for those ancient
and not so willing suckers!


duke making his own way
(to the corner club)
Parsons and Poe
stream from the torn screen door
cricket cadence
and symphony of the Deere
calm and deliberate
in the soft
and silent fields

meadows open for grazing
(guineas scamper across the till)
pocket apples fill
the country ripe air
drunken bees
and chestnuts
and electric fingers
strike the surface pool
(a cedar ***** wedged on the white wash dock)

baited bull heads set to cast
evenings with hearts
and Nolten Nash
may flowers bloom
across the grass
~ time unmatched ~
with blue jays
and river bends
and channel cats
...and that warm
and recurring
Coleman drift
ok okay Jan 14
No shadows can be found at this time of night
Some of those awake have never seen true light

Hypnotic music draws them in at large
Their brain tells them sleep
But their heart tells them dance

A hundred people all cramped in one spot
Getting numb from drinking shots

Strobe lights are beaming
And so are their smiles
But all of the smiles will be gone in awhile

Once the music shuts down
So does your body
Who knew a place so popular could be so lonely
I think these places are incredibly lonely. I recently had a bad experience at one of them.
Cné Apr 2017
the club is not the place to be
so the bar is where you'll find me
with my girlfriend doing shots
scanning the room and catching nods

your eyes hang in the smoky air
come on over, if you dare
trust me, I'll give you a chance
surely you see that, in my glance

my friend and I are laughing like girls do
my magnetic eyes push and pull at you
starring, you haven't looked away
I can see the interest, you convey

another shot the bartender places
confused, he gestures and your glass raises
I smile as my girlfriend whispers, he's cute
toasting you, we lift our shots and shoot

I won't beg you to on come over
but it's only wasting time until you come closer
the possibilities, I foresee
I'm already in love with your body

in confidence, over you saunder
in my mind the question, I ponder
obviously I see, you're in to me
but what about my friend... are you into three?
Just thinking out loud. Lol
Khoi-San Oct 2018
My friend passed away recently
We grew up in the same neighbouhood
Played soccer for the same club
He was a very good player
Became alcohol dependent
That's how he died whenever
We meut the guy always
Had that radiance about him
A fresh smile upon greeting
A Positive conversation very uplifting
I might add and that's how he
Will be remembered yet here
In and amongst the good we
Must also allow ourselves
The opportunity to reflect
On some of the **** stuff
As hurdles that lead to the good
My friend made some bad choices
Though at the end when it counted
He will only be remembered
For the good
A tribute to my friend Mark Vandersandt
Passed away 08/10/2018
God be with you until we meet again
Shofi Ahmed Jan 8
Every atom is lenient towards the human being
streaming up from the deep root they spur
laying down the perfect descending of the stars.

They can take on the stellar in their deep club
that shows up opening the windows up in the sky
and down on to the earth cast their eyes!

The slim fit sharp atom knows all the shortcuts
constantly vibrating not a single star can catch nor will it ever
thin out – it has the extraordinary ****** of luck.
But the eyes are on the humans not over the amber. 
Dreaming to be physically absorbed within the human being
to be in the human’s divine proportion ever transcendental
a far cry from the sun and the moon but with it both gel together! 

Once they came so close almost touched the dream
they rose to the occasion, squaring the circle,
laser scanning through, as above so below, so humble.
Submitted them without waxing lyrical took the brush off
the colour bowl of the day then blindfolding the moon
in the night reached out to the paragon of the phi mania,
flawlessly made to measure, numerically perfect Fathima!

Presented themselves before her as pure blank
whereon she can jot like her chalkboard
or do as she please like she could show up
taking it as her shadow, she exactly did that.
Touched down on the earth, in the veil
and revealed her as above so below.
The ocean moved stirred the water but none saw the sunshine
behind the full moon in bloom that steals the starry night.

Day in day out Fathima did all in a veil she lived and gone.
Keeping the atom on its toe ever honing tracing the footprint
in its own shadow as once a human being without a mark
crept in it lived in pi magic and leaped out!
meGaThOr Mar 2018
me rich Great Again
follow dreams to a place where freedom
ebuffed my  businessman

Mar-a-Lago Club
resort is mine
to escape the spotligh
Our culture has gotten
too mean and too rough,

More weighty details are scarce
Berwyn speech, without a hint of irony
deep love and respect”

dropped slightly as my race tightens
after a plagiarism controversy
'And when was this? I dunno, I dunno:
like everything else, twenty years ago.' - August Kleinzahler

I
Whosis slunk next to the rastamagnet
dj booth, in a limabeanhued suit
jacket, limabean sleeves rolledup to
deploy albino ancons for jostling.
II
My ****** lungs ached; gluttonous Venomised
pelicanbills. Cig o' no mercy, cig of life.
Serpivolent smoke is nicocreaming
ceiling of this dive Dasein dosses in.
III
Unrequiting snoutcloud of her chuffing
form siffles thru her mousy enamel.
'Light reflecting booster technology',
advertising Boswellox, scents her hair.
IV
Male Black Widow Complex boings in my brain,
as the vogueress exits conceivable zone
of address. Yet she cigawrenches
my stalking thoughts across the pumptup ballroom.
V
O those farouche salad nights following
swotting up in the humid Octagon!
Male Black Widow Complex, th'always boinging,
lidded by lemony orange lager.
VI
I crashed Crasherkid frabble, rocked to
DJ Shoppinghour feat. MC Niche Jah.
My Sax Pustules & Dead Kinnocks LPs
accusingly mouldered in my heart.
VII
Crasherkids twatted then, dated now, now
grooveriders haggard. But time was the thud
of arterial Cherry7up
was the dub of their youthful BPM.
VIII
Triptown beefnecks w/ classic legoman's
Acid House ecaf (before e-cafes
had come & gone), mandy stag party.
I still slow my pace at their fearless napes.
IX
The rock club had delusions of grunger,
crush at the bar was lumberjack cubism.
Era of Jingajing-chicka-jing-jing Kurt,
anno domudhoney, left a zeitgash.
X
& in the goth club, cadavolescent,
guylinered Xennials listened to
Placebo, but poo-pooed manginas.
Identi90s: genres, not genders.
XI
Blotto elbows on sudsy bar, I cross
lanky barkeep's gulchy palm w/ nugget
for latest in a lost count of snakebites.
Streak of **** is a broom in a skinnytie.
XII
'I'm hyperboring as much as you!' quip I
to a cheetahthinking softdrinker.
There'd be no ruction if pickled franion
spilt his Tab Clear Kaliber, H2ooze.
XIII
Yestreen's teen mums of teen mums, renubile
on the glash. Simuladies who soft soap
saps to buy them...a drink, QVCexy.
If shopgilfs surrender the goods, QVChy.
XIV
Whosis, tattie-bogie of the floor,
turned Turok w/ liebestorschlusspanik.
But his limabean lines are jejune, even to
zirconia Zsa Zsas on the zhelf.
XV
Whosis, lima green last chancer, I'm a
aphroluddite like you. Both crud dancers
too, corybantersauruses. It's all
smoke 'n' mingers & we've got lunge cancer.
XVI
'There's a party on the hillside, would you like
to come? Bring your own cup & saucer
& your own cream bun!' Friends joyride
home dead, so ride dead joy home alone.
XVII
Simian, simulacrum, something for
the weekend, sir? Or are weekends just for
something before ip dip dogshit
******* ******* silly *** meet the kids then what?
XVIII
Stereotripe, not Stereospeare, yet unknown
plexors would kick in. Or was it the joypop?
Popliteal self on higher neon knees,
Mother Brown's got nothing on me!
XIX
Anansesum of my fancy footwork,
Bez in blossom under tiger strobe.
Chemical cochise, call me 'Tarantulip':
totem, tarantism, bruxism, bloom.
**
Yeah, I liked DJ Offroseanne before
the coward sounds of Simoncowellland
killed Cool. Taxi for the Corpse of Cool/
fetch your coat, love, you've pulled the Corpse of Cool!
XXI
Since the ears dot, aural laurels were hot.
& the beat authenticity lays down
is still the drill sergeant instrumental
that leads blind zeit pipers of all pied geists.
XXII
Lima bean fugue, forearm flash, Dear John tats.
Nocturnal vernal mental of the comeup
becomesdown w/ no summerlove, bad trip
(Raggaman Kafka say 'Uneazee Dreamz').
XXIII
'Taxi Driver' cinematography,
neon printcest of clubland signs dimmens.
Pick up your tuttifrutti braindamage
- time to go home, hungover twichildren.
http://www.pilkipedia.co.uk/wiki/index.php/Boswellox
CK Baker Jan 2017
So I'll have mine
and you'll have yours?
who could ask
for anything more!
grey beards march
the union jack
build a wall
and send them back!  

Grudge, sludge
a sanguine view
****** off
and take the cue
hide, plunge
aristocrat
run the field
like an old tom cat

Narrow pass
and capital flow
falling crude
and currency woe
deep depression,
mutineers
the mastermind
of project fear!

Silver spoon
at Hampton court
madness waits
in Davenport
divisible
and off the grid
**** it up
100 quid

Helen’s horsemen
unified
the springbok club
will never hide
plebiscite
in deep despair
an open scroll
Trafalgar square  

Grapple, grovel
sentry shame
along the shore
of river Thames
king of wankers
lord of beat
break the rule
of old elite!

Stone the posse
bullets bare
load the chambers
fists in air
voices, faces
haunted souls…
should i stay
or should i go?
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