Thursday, November 15, 2012

Discomfort Food

I can't write, but
I can't not write
If only I can stay
Right here
Nerves thrumming
Fingers drumming
Make-believe that I'm alive and
Watch the hours go slipping way, way away

Inaction's where the real action is.

Fear's my guide, yet
Fear won't guide me
All it does is just
Cripple, and compress
Crawling, distress
Sitting, standing, waiting for the headsman
I gave him the hood, the axe, the job

There's nothing in this.

To hell with the calories.  I have to burn this off before it sticks.


Special thanks to Tones on Tail, whose number 'Instrumental' got me through this one.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Short and Horrible

What have I told you of dropping at eaves
Were you not sworn not to listen?
Folk shouldn't hark
to things after dark
Now you just lie there, and glisten.

Didn't I bid you to button your coat?
Fog in the hollows is pooling.
People who turn
wish they'd never learned
Love, you are rapidly cooling.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Three A.M., Swansea

I'm the only man on these streets
Water running under my feet is singing
the last number that the D.J.'s spinning.

Though, he isn't here, and there's no music
but the rhythm of my feet, and the cooling sweat
under the leather jacket.

The last living things
under these tangerine stars, with their concrete supports
and the haze of blue-black far above them
are the cats.  Not me.

I died back there
under the lights
inside the beat.
I died, and kept falling
long after the last notes fell out of the air.

Here's my heaven
A city hushed at the footfall of a pale spectre
A boy flying home on the three a.m boots express
through long, flat stretches
and tumbling hills

His eyes are studded with starlight
and the zips on the jacket
are all that`s holding back his wings.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Two Since Gone

When I was small
There was the nightmare
A speeding car, drawing away
The leadfoot driver, safe because
He isn't me.

The back seat's too big and the window's too wide
The glass will shatter, it's coming inside

I'm going to die.


When I was small
There was the nightmare
The playground's lit, sodium glare
The daylight children, safe because
They aren't me.

The light doesn't matter, the adults can't see
The time's come, it's waited so patiently

I'm going to die.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Mr. Crossroads

Do you know me? Here we go, we’re
just the spots before your eyes.
You and me can fucking double-take,
be lords of fucking flies
Heads on sticks, two quick cheap tricks
good times that fade before we’re done
I dance on rope to give you hope
been out too damn long in the sun.
Here’s dust, here’s rust, and shivering lust,
don’t want this, but oh, you do
In the white-out next to blackout, I’m the driver
swinging the screw.

I’ve been up since half past Byron, though that played out pretty poor,
I’m the ugly
I’m the drug he
Took down, sauntering past death’s door
When you look on me, don’t shudder
That just gets me on your case
I’m old lilies and a pair of jeans
So black they came from space
Void and null is just a pitcher
Pour the liquid out like sin
For you’ll never get to itch her
Though the scratching does you in.

Time's up; sit a spell and heed me
Nothing's cheap, and that is all
Bones go creaking, blood is leaking
to the bottom of it all
When you get to where you're going
be not meek, nor proud, nor pissed
It was never nothin' pers'nal
Just your name, upon my list.