'Help, help, ' said a man. 'I'm drowning.'
'Hang on, ' said a man from the shore.
'Help, help, ' said the man. 'I'm not clowning.'
'Yes, I know, I heard you before.
Be patient dear man who is drowning,
You, see I've got a disease.
I'm waiting for a Doctor J. Browning.
So do be patient please.'
'How long, ' said the man who was drowning. 'Will it take for the Doc to arrive? '
'Not very long, ' said the man with the disease. 'Till then try staying alive.'
'Very well, ' said the man who was drowning. 'I'll try and stay afloat.
By reciting the poems of Browning
And other things he wrote.'
'Help, help, ' said the man with the disease, 'I suddenly feel quite ill.'
'Keep calm.' said the man who was drowning, ' Breathe deeply and lie quite still.'
'Oh dear, ' said the man with the awful disease. 'I think I'm going to die.'
'Farewell, ' said the man who was drowning.
Said the man with the disease, 'goodbye.'
So the man who was drowning, drownded
And the man with the disease past away.
But apart from that,
And a fire in my flat,
It's been a very nice day.

A cold sweat body with bladed coils sinking teeth
remove myself from interior hate into exterior time
throbbing with self underneath
not a crime not a crime not a crime
string little berries on a thread
butterfly butterfly
the little bird said
wouldn't it be easier to be living..dead.

Cleverly-crafted crumbs created
Are fabulously fantastic when framed for framing's function,
But accurately articulated actions
Are better for freeing feeling's function.

Now I can see your
Creative crumbs are cause for chaos.
The creator capturing caring compassionates
With each wilful, worthless word.

It lays amongst an earthy mound
sweet venom rests on top
Strange figures pass without a glance
Until those old days stop

With not a whip it rests and hums
Lets out one desperate sigh
But petals hide it's secret dream
To make an easier fall and die

To be killed for a small misdeed of another
Must be an awful way to live  
But to you, a precious little flower
Is all that you can give