Ground flesh, stumble-grins, arguments without anything pertaining to anything else, only downside down-slide, grumble, rumble & spiff.
If you ever take out a loan at this bank you better not take down any trees '*** they'll chop you back down, believe me.
Only the fire may burn in yellow & gold, you gotta burn in black,
horrid gold, horrid shtuck, never take a trip too soon, never ride in a car with a man in a green fedora or a 8-ball on the gear stick.
When I fell down the stairs you caught me and said 'dont you know that you can die?'
'no, no, whats that?'
'never mind'
and you were gone.
I think I'm really going crazy, I'm losing my hair and my teeth feel loose, soon I'll be nothing but a shell of hollow bones & ideas that never made it to fruition.
The world is really crumbling all around me, the people are melting, the babies are crying, the cats are singing songs of doom & the birds have all forgotten how to fly.
I have the answer, I have the solution, I can be the savior of manki...
..ooh look, donuts/***/television/THINGS

for Kate and Nicola and Wayne and Paul and Cameron and Skye and Kylie and Nathan and Cameron and the weird guy next door.  


Here’s to you, my crazy friends
You ******-up misfits too cool for my school
But you liked me anyway, you let me
read you my book of poems
You played Bone Machine while I was tripping
We walked through the suburbs looking for fairies,
We slept with each other despite my huge crush on you
You liked me anyway.

You taught me to smoke ****
To stop hating on op shop clothes while
I wore Country Road and cashmere vests.
We watched the sun come up, smelling of sweat
and drugs and DJs’ last hurrahs and dark old
warehouses, kerosene fire batons and your menthol
cigarettes.

I gave you Siddhartha and Guildenstern and Rosencrantz,
though it wasn’t the first time.
I loved it all: the guitars, the punk chords, the dodgy old houses
in run down parts of West End,
the random houses, the secret nights smoking your
Champion Ruby in my old *** pipe because we’d
run out of **** and Henry Miller wouldn’t settle for just plain *****.

Bohemian Cafés and curries,
girlfriends turned turncoat then lesbians,
your secret *** parties that I never found out about ‘till years later
your Mezz Mezzrow typewriter and bright candles of novel beginnings
that never saw the light of day.  Her sweet little hips showing a little too
clearly with the the shining light from inside as it lit her silhouette on
your balcony. I miss you guys, with your madness your friendships and
deep inner hipness that wasn’t in me.

So it’s years later now, we’re old and I ain’t seen you in years.
Wayne showed up in a café one day with CDs of his latest, still cool
I was studying Mandarin, and I wanted to reconnect
He gave me his number but I didn’t call him, I can’t explain why.
You showed up one day, “weren’t you going to come and say hello?”
I was but I still don’t know how.

Berlin's a place that contradicts -
It's vibrant, but it's haunting,
The paradigm of hipness, with
A history most daunting.

The damage done in World War II
Reduced it to a rubble
And then the famous wall went up,
Which led to years of trouble.

You can't forget (and never should)
The **** reign of terror.
Memorials abound atoning
For that awful era.

Yet everything has been restored.
You won't see ancient buildings,
But modern takes of what was lost,
Replete with domes and gildings.

This is a city worth a trip,
With coolness overriding,
Defiant that to all the world
Its past will not be hiding.