.
                                                Enough is not enough
                                                     I want too much.

                                                      “Excuse me sir
                                           you haven’t paid too much.
                                                  I gave you too much
                                               and you ate everything.
                                        I need to throw away something
                                                 and the bin’s spilling."

"I drove too many footsteps
past too many throwaways
too many pylons
water towers
possum-eaten polystyrene cups
Mcdonalds
Mcdonalds
Mcdonalds
camel boxes
and walkers
with socks as hard as coffins.”

                                             Enough is not enough
                                                  I want too much.

ambiance amplified and gravitas dead inside
drink alone, danger zone, shot the Jekyll, saved the Hyde
cut my seat belts so my doors wouldn't beep, though
I creep with a fleet of conceited banditos
to the park, skip some rocks, play the shark, shuffle birds
find the narc, go and knock, make it bark, no one heard
a million reason to stay awake wide-eyed tonight
ninety-nine *******, one problem: you're in my line of sight
black & decker woodpecker, fur-trap chop with my power-drill
trill wagon, cool dragon flagon of honey mead on the window sill
unseen fiends mean for stones out beating streets to smithereens
you only live nine times: shake the earth, **** the silver screens
pair of sweet, pear-shaped tweets for you to meet in the suite,
they can show, you can see that they know how to greet
enough throwaways to keep boost mobile open
enough light reflecting princess cuts that they think my neck is frozen

Sat in the doorway,
a throwaway man with a
cigarette and beer can
and a hangdog look on his face.

In this city of wealth,poverty takes some by stealth,
those who are healthy and fit often don't give a ****,it's not them in the doorway,they cannot see themselves brought down so low,
but go down to Mayfair or Stepney or Bow,there's a tidal flow of the throwaway men,who have nowhere to stay and if they do, then,
there is no job for them,no way to earn
and the cigarette burns,the beer can is crushed, a bit like the throwaways beaten and rushed to an end.

The end is an end by no means,
to the hungry and needy
who watch as the well fed and greedy go by,who sigh through the day in a throwaway kind of a throwaway way,
but it's what people expect from the 'workshy' and worthless,the cesspit of the city, and life does not pity them,nor do the throwaway men really care,
sitting there
in the doorway
where there seems no way
to escape.

Everything about you and everyone you know
What you had for breakfast and where you plan to go
Who you call and what you say and precisely where you are
Every visit to the doctor, the mileage on your car

The books you like, the food you buy, the bloggers that you read
How much you gave to charity, your attitude to ****
Every contact, every text, every on-line search
The way you dress, the way you walk, the last time you went to church

No none of this is private now; you're an information source
Of interest to the agencies of order, law, and force
It's for the common good - no really! Can't you see?
And this discussion now, it's over; it's about security

And while we're on the subject, someone really oughta
Keep an eye on her next door; at least until we've caught her
And be mindful what you wish for, now thought-crime's here to stay
But hey! It's Britain not North Korea!  Just mind how you go, OK?

Oh you have to hand it to the creeps - they've diligently been sifting
Not through your bins or bank account when ALL your data lifting
They've no need for tricks or subterfuge since you handed them the keys
You let them in unwittingly, and at the time, were pleased

So now you're pinned and wriggling on their glass one-way wall
You've no more secrets hidden 'cos you've given them them all
Privacy is dead and buried, too late now for bereavement
You slaughtered it yourself:  End User Licence Agreement

It's too late too for tin-foil hats, too late to complain
And anyway, how would you? You've forfeited this game
Join the Twitterati? Start a Facebook page?
Tell your mates on WhatsApp?  All adds more padlocks to your cage

P'raps best not to think too much about it; Yes that's the easy call
Lie back and LOL at kittens, watch Gogglebox, but actually think sod all
Yes buy your Funeral Insurance – it's acquired a curious appeal
And accept, why not, the Kardashians might actually be real

With opinions now as changeable as your boxer shorts
Grey and saggy throwaways, masquerading as your thoughts
You got the lot in Primark's sale, with your knickers and your socks
And you feel freer now than ever, inside your tiny airless box

And that's the way we like it; your illusion of control
Costs us little and lets us rule you in body, heart and soul
So make no waves, do not stand out, enjoy your bread and games
Don't try to dodge the system or we'll cast you to the flames

“Nothing to hide, then nothing to fear” is something you've no doubt heard
But those who shout it loudest know best that it's absurd
So peer behind the curtain, examine every single word
   Because you know they've cracked it... yes finally cracked it...
     The polishing to perfection -  to immaculate, flawless, gleaming perfection - of
Every
Single
****

Write insanely
                                        It doesn’t matter what you write
                  Incoherent ramblings or poetic rhymes
                                                          ­Clean-shaven in youth
Grizzled beard in the wisdom of age
                       Wear a distinctive cap
       Strategically placed without a care
                                                            ­ Or none at all
                     but ALWAYS keep MeSSy hair
    Dress up from others throwaways
                                              Or dress to the nines
                                                           ­        Clean suit and all
                                        But most importantly
                                                Write­ insanely

The medals from Vietnam only saw light
when it fanned beneath the bed
so that when you removed them
the black velvet had grown forty years
of grey moss

it wasn’t that you wanted to forget them
but that they couldn’t stack up against
the black and white time lines
the photographs of your children
my mother, aunt and uncle
that grew into color by the top of the stairs

it wasn’t a matter of forgetting
it was a matter of choice
and the shark teeth and crab jackets
that all the cousins pulled out of the Chesapeake
stayed on the shelf because
that was what you were fighting for

the only relic you decided
to keep in plain view
laid right next to the crab jackets
a little vial wrapped around
a little metal tooth

because when the mortar flashed like a stroke
inches from your head
your thoughts went to home
and that fragment of near death
you keep in the glass vial
looking out over the living room
to tease it, to torture it, to say
Not even you could make me forget

Last time I saw you was a year ago
and you were dying
bruises bubbled anywhere a corner touched your flesh
and oily scales peeled from the shell of skin
stretched over your forehead

last year you told us everything about your medals
they were all just throwaways
though your wife and daughter pried,
you knew that remembering them was a waste of dying time

now two more strokes since that mortar flash
have left you in the ward
people have stopped visiting
because visitors like to be recognized
and when Marmee sits and watches football with you
she hates football
she asks you what teams are playing
you sob
*I used to know.

Sunrise explosion!
Sneaking up on no one
But the unawake
    At life, at the day
But to the awake...BANG!
And the planet we are on in all
    its Enormity
    and prism power - atmosphere
Separates the radioactive
    explosion
That is traveling
299,792,458 miles per second
From 93 million miles away
    (a whole 8 minute journey)
From a hot body
With a 432,288 mile radius
of glowing
    exploding gas
That, upon reaching us
Is recklessly
    Smashed
Into all potential tertiary shades
Of cerulean and sapphire
Of marigold and sandstone
Of shades beyond identifiers
    (we all experience them
    differently anyhow)
And for these opening moments
    of the day
All masterpiece paintings
    appear as preschool throwaways
And as quickly as the calm chaos enters
It stage exits
    On account
        Of the 432k mile monstrosity
            That will blind
                Any
                    Who dared look at it

Good morning.

I. myself

I don't see any sense in books or talk therapy
for self help.
place em all in a box
place em with the throwaways on that
bottom shelf
and I ask myself whats it worth?
kneel to the darkness of the moon
and cry out in prayer to the earth.

where am I? Because I miss knowing that first person. So I pray and plea for an "I love you."
from me...

II. you

I don't see you often or talk to you much.
and if there is such thing as a loss of sense it would be touch.
because in many senses I have lost all five.
without you, I find it have to stay awake or stay alive.
it's survival of the weakest, a testament to how helpless I am-

To The Things I Have Lost.

there's a space that I regret so much
for with blinkers on I didn't see
you falling in love with me

for I thought you saw
my heart is taken and sings
to the strings of an earlier song

not that you aren't the best fun thing
but I'm not like that- in a world of temporary
throwaways... I'm a keeper, and loyal

for when I said "I do" - I vowed
before God and onlookers--
so don't make me fall

with your clever quips
and thought-out slips
for I'm 'true blue'

and my heart still beats
seeing my beloved this day
as I cover his face with kisses

I wanna feel the backlash
The range of emotion settling across your face
Let me taste the ways that you hate me
Bury me, unmarked by the highway
Leave it all behind, you'll be fine
Or so they say
I know you like your nails
Sharp and filed
Dagger points, matte black lines
Just to prove you look so good
But they're just lies
Throwaways to help you settle in
The night's still young
Lift your chin, there's blood running from your nose
It's all fine, you'll be just fine
Don't believe them, love
You're just so young, we're just so young
I've got the fire of youth in me
Angst in my veins
Bleed me dry
I wanna set fire to this place
Hold my hand, we'll take it slow
Watch it go from afar
It doesn't scare me, does it scare you?

In this room...  
It's blistered cardboard walls  
And a monotonous bulb
Guttering above me  
Like a flickering 60 watt sun
That forgot how to shine  
  
Surrounded by the scent  
Of stale cigarettes  
And the scattered remnants of nightmares  
Footsteps  outside my door  
Disembodied fragments of men  
Scurrying down infinite corridors of silence
  
Leaning out my window  
Into the sprawling urban night  
The wafting bouquet of garbage  
And the relentless symphony  
Of sirens and screams  
The ****** on the corner  
Pacing her purgatory of sidewalks  
With absent feline grace  
  
I light my last cigarette  
Burning my throat and stomach  
Blowing smoke rings of oblivion  
Towards the bulging cracked ceiling  
  
Scrawling desperate verse  
To a love in a far distant place  
Wondering if she'll ever reach me  
Amidst this wreckage and ruin.  
  
One day they'll find me  
My silent pen in stigmata death grip  
With nothing but tattered notebooks  
And scattered throwaways  
To mark my earthly sojourn.

In this room...

Blistered cardboard walls
And a monotonous bulb
Guttering above me
Like a flickering 60 watt sun
That forgot to shine

Surrounded by the scent
Of stale cigarettes
And the scattered remnants of nightmares

Footsteps outside my door
Disembodied fragments of men
Scurrying down infinite corridors of silence

Leaning out my window
Into the sprawling urban night
The wafting bouquet of garbage
And human decay
The relentless symphony
Of wailing sirens and fractured screams

The ****** on the corner
Pacing her purgatory of sidewalks
With abscent feline grace

I light my last cigarette
Burning my throat and stomach
Blowing smoke rings of oblivion
Toward the stained, unresponsive ceiling

Scrawling desperate verse
To a love in a far distant place
Wondering if she'll ever find me
Amidst this wreckage and ruin

One day they will find me
My silliest pen caught
In a stigmata death grip
With nothing but tattered notebooks
And scattered throwaways
To mark my earthly sojourn.