headful of blaring


i’m dashing whilst

horizontal stood

don’t feel the dust

begin or the usurped

collars of spider’s web,

inches aren’t communicating

as if the floor was quite dead

it’s there i was found in the

pose of a shell, outside

unfurls tantrums

this deadness it’s the best

it’s how to un-feel, neither

shore striding or in the

wet of obsolete drowning

i hate the resourcefulness

of others, they mutter

injections and try to clear

the muddy waters i’m

involved in

too far down my climate assures,

none shall be resolving the bent

puzzle, the blank neutered expression,

sadness someone ignites

undo all doors, try pressing the

sky’s doable lid, “you can’t” i

holler in absolute whiteness of

silence and stiffness

down here a blissful lifelessness

it’s wonderful cadaver of quite

broken daylight, i’m swirled with

migraine flavourings

admit me further into the hostile

glare, kindness is disinfected here

but hands are quick searching and

seek for this ruin of disobedient atoms

to repair, to reinvigorate the

dismantle, but i was quite

thorough, i grimaced the edges

and made blood tire

am floated with a description of

glassy fragmented manta rays

they thrive in those diminishing


as if the walls are being squeezed

out, and the machine is being

asked to defeat itself, now is

beyond a blankness quite unknown

waking hour

snowy deep ceiling

renditions of creaks, thuds

and muffled footstep thunder

and thru’ wakefulness

caffeine holds theatrical


patrols are rhythms upon

membranes cluttering the

fewer clusters of quiet

diminish me further with

eyelids like tracing paper

pinned wide to open fullest

above has groans narrow

in residence in such bones

iridescent lovers crackle

i snarl and tear their

continuous faces to

mask my own

their gasps are outrageous

butterflies-set-alight, could

be a comet outright

shuddered blissfulness


abandon their wet skies

and drift slowness onto

stood gazing

i’m drifting thru’


bleak hills of

waiting for the oceans

to still to meniscus quieten

when breaths become

watchful, become hushed


atoms of reestablishing


are crushed

there’s a requiem

of loneliness and



anchor-less with no

width to reach for so

plummeting continues

where swooned beasts

shove pale horizons

the noise of time is loudly

and prefers to threaten,

there are floor theatres where

music aches and disperses

it’s moan-full-ness

antique sighs

kept for being stale, rotting

every souvenir yesterday

too many roads

have pulled me, nowhere seems

a stance rooted to


like a cross upon this offal-opal

disgruntled bed

where no other touch discovers

outside is being strode about by

percussion and strobed, not near

to the maelstrom of flickers that

cinemas here inside

their intruding


like sticky rain thru’ unguarded eyefuls

i blink these stains and bloom it’s

thirst-ful-ness, a-flower-gulping-scant-desert-


gashed open by lightning,

stiff drizzle continues

sticking to the geology of flesh

harm to be so far from this infectious

heart, within it’s own heartbeat scratch

the walls redder, i always awe, i

always succumb

exist as exits feelings in

morasses of molasses and unhappy

unkind places

their fingers like sad

irises sway and push into every

owned calcium

if only sleep would

swathe i could fall, the

cinder hot duvet squeezes

tho’ midnight is rubbed black the

mind acquires daylight, and it

blazes, morning comes along

dazed and my rise is

slow witted

my head labyrinths


stark corridors

a gossamer stair

a stairwell plummets

where the devil

could occupy

the sky where no

oxygen mutters,

membranes the

lid of stars


resemble a

peered thru’






decide where

hate is nourished

and love confides

in it’s magma


partitions the bleak

strangle of


murmur of files

like a drone of


entire universes

hum with music

from their see-thru’


atoms resurrect

aired to complete

idea spires

or invented to

serve unbreakable


all are coveted

in deep, fractured cots

of swarming voltages

there are terrible

images that need

to be slain

the habit of eyes

to take copies


glances of fragments

are witnessed yet

won’t explain their winter

bury their cruel

televisions, insist the

ravine ingests all

that hallway thru’
the throat where
kisses won’t fall

the heart knows it’s
kill, and lacerates

with thrown up comets
with daggers blunt
as meteors

head-spill, habitual
galaxies pulled to
their obsolete broken

it’s where the fences
are rebuilt, splinters

sometimes the sighs
howl most, i’m being
butterfly’d against -

abrupt deaths, they shudder
the sketches i have seized
from blood

what am i but the outside
i have seen and endured,
often i am thwarted roads

too many directions, a
confusion of wires says

anywhere is not the
moment i am in, i
observe only this

defeated constellation
and the daft mountains
that are paid to archive

a seam of promise

some ideas have tigers

or birds full of swallowed

prisms so bright that crowds

once written follow, adoring

as sweat to a garment clings

swarms of investigate, tumbling

their bee curiosity thru’ out

purchasing, upon every word

that was born to give birth to,

if allowed i would be ripped out

but i haven’t congealed with

stardom, i’m more obscure

than hid, starless even, there

is no width in elsewhere’s interest,

comes the unnamed coffin lid

most are here, unpopular and

never revisited, i wrote my soul

for you to ignore, a script of my

most private verse no god would

respond to or publisher tongue invite

and minutes spoil themselves wasteful

tipping time from tuesday, this day is

a hole, uneventful, i’m trying to persevere

the granite forest, to build sighs from

cadavers but words aren’t pliable coming

thru’ into bland thursday, i don’t know where

previous went, the page is white unbearable

snowflakes, i’m waiting for fox bronze paw prints

or a spider’s mortuary at least, no gleam

no cranial lightning strike

all those constellations lay buried

where the past mattered, what’s to

dig these stars out? to

energise the ravine?

write yourself into the drink of the sea

but the pen is sober

undoing a person

why is sadness blue into

persuasion? making

further melancholy

stiff mountains and

implausible to kindness

impassable to touches

i’ve had this head that low

it outdoes stickier shadow

punctures as a gaoler would

trying out it’s assassin, rots

around me as a scowl

it’s grief turned inside blacken

bleak as limitless burden, untie

the root that seldom thirsts or

seeks to search explanation,

i’ve slept underneath that ocean

this is why broken is, it’s a

dark, dark opium, it replenishes

cadavers with awful ink,

pin cushions these mannequins

whilst living is prohibited

accept me as i am ten

thousand sires of fragments

all displacing or reconnecting

ambushes, a slow murder

whilst waking

my mind is as lean as a

newly carved rib, polished

even with a sky the colour

of rain, obese with fat fallen

thumbs, all exerting

pushing upon as suffocation

would say a taut pillow for

the cot’s occupant to be rid,

there’s chasing by medicinal

horizons, assaulted by opinion

do not accept the white crow

it has a serpent wound

heart, do not like the

stranger’s attempt it will

only be medicated

and the blood is sighed sad

where so many faces are

adrift, wrecks almost and

quite quite lost, who steals

the heart’s mountainous

yearning? who makes life

thinner and more jagged

dance thru’? “i was once”

he admitted but now, now

am entirely strewn

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