How can a naked man run past curfew the streets without living?

Tag: cynicism

deep bass protest

the dead gong sounds
in the dead of the night

star-light wrinkled feather
and a burnt, dying-out fist-fight

delight people-flying
with a bounce air-tight

arm slight to the belly
on the hood on the car’s top-light

what height feinted moisture
over-bruised clanking screams “de-knight!”

takes-fright motor screaming
deep-bass morse-code writes

“I’m slight-ly off-duty see
you tomorrow, good-night”

slept tight
her head on the tarmac song


This evening i tilted my skull towards the sky and saw a Michelangelo’s sunset covering the expanse i know as sky – swept off the urbane bus and phlegm-specked windows i suddenly become aware of a deep, throbbing desire to believe in something bigger than myself – to see that there would be a god absolute enough to have patented this beauty or churned it out in a colour factory with an audience of captivated humans with their manmade reason to have witnessed – and then i look down at the blue duffel stuffed between my legs, and the stale, pale, smell of sweat gracing an air hemmed in by many skins – and hear the children asking fantasy questions – “mummy, if you could be anywhere now, where would you be?” – and energetically i laugh myself off like a puerile joke.

later, n.

your lungs beg for air
“live later”. your life is my prescription.
(Doctor : believe me)
you are not yet posthumus, not yet a human being.
preparation is key.
you must not yet believe fictions, least of all your own.
your time is yet not here – first you must chase the empty train
give up when you are old and greying
laugh at your children when we stop laughing at you
tragic-woeful; pathetic-hopeful

duty is cheap but life costs much
your greatest dreams shall be hooked and dialysed
the tang of ether is better than the wine of life
your hopes belong with varicose ulcers and stained bedsheets
this machine pumps your blood for you – what can be better?
is your heart not rotten?
have your dreams not ripened?
(Doctor : don’t be absurd.)
aged urine sells dirty cheap;
and now we can let your bottled souls go.

thank you for your time. do have a nice day.