a poem of those removed from their mouths

zip up the anorak try

and stay hid, if the

radars don’t get you

the people’s -

contagion will, there’s

rhetoric and words -

harsh as sticks, bullying

at every tier and tearful

how we all hang from

the gallows of each

other’s judgements,

there’s a glass outhouse

in all of us, come stone

me with accusation

expect missiles back,

watch the facades crack

there’s hurtful and there’s

spite, trolls are for real

and continue to kill from

laptop despicable bridges

best to keep underneath

to keep unheard, there’s

a hearse with your name -

emblazoned should it find you -

in a ditch of don’t notice,

ignore me as the swarm

passes crowded ideals

ill fitted and noisy

and the stance they try to

preach from is too full of

holes, and the flags that

are waved are cocksure -

and loaded, goading those

quiet to further endure

silence, endurance until

history becomes tombstones

suture me quick to keep

the voice closed, thumb

under and stay there

without opinion

stay dumb or at least

with no preference and numb,

no point or view to irritate the hive,

hide in bland bludgeoned programmes

the polls are saying

subdue, you won’t

be counted just fodder

for lonely to prowl

don’t choose or no other option,

think yourself part of disunity

and aberration when albion is

reckless and caring is scarce

you’re a monitored statistic

a digit to be disgraced,

button up dissent and

prolong queuing

confiscate living let

freedom sing its jailed song,

pity those everywhere

all elsewhere is futile

knot yourself up in

straight jacket ties

expect medication soon

borrow from yesterday

tomorrow is not expected to live

appear once

like the frugal crocus

goes unseen mostly

then gone as its

colour collapses

like us in the draughty

sighed loneliness

trying to catch

spare moonbeams whilst fading

the view is certain of

falling, failing

no rain would

be returning

a gaze of

once

an echo

a copy of the mirror’s glaze

fits eyelids

well and woods them

fewer times are spent being happy, now is being archived root-and-delved-all

ephemeral

like i said, love, once

its gasp never

reoccurred again

eyesore-inflict

two tongues

later, one

inescapable-breath-catch

and the ribcage

a supposed source of,

derelict, unsaid

hollow mauves

did their best to

bliss, to buRn off ether

man shaped in a

shadow, twist on out

from its laid-there-bare-alcove

there is not enough

sleep to make my

filled up carcass numb’r

watch the ceiling

pool with light that

can’t seem much darker

slain there on pillows

on cotton altars, bit

thru with stars

mouth made

wordlessness to fall back-

wards into

you have taken

me by the anchor by

the only talkative root

severed

the floor

i exist from

bored beige and

walls accept

head hit

for all the

mind’s starriness

a universe diminishes

about to be but not quite

hear myself hasten,

what quickens is also

wasting, and what might

never be finished may

never come to, halfway

thru to the bones of fruition,

so the moment shakes

itself, and the bareness

try’s unsuccessful, why

is lightning inconsolable?

i was walls of words once

words became my skull

became worded oceans,

out there tires, and beyond

the pane’s fatigued eye

tiredness and fading,

there’s a throe in the wind’s

gloaming, skeletons begin

posing, abrupt discoloured

clothing undresses its rust

that gape where the window

always stares, always strives

to view everywhere, when in

reality’s mask is only a sliver,

eyesores aren’t always outside

inside and nearer, gargoyles

can’t be clearer as rooks settle

the scarves of my sighs, i am

incompatible with myself this

star worn night

thru’ finale of air

it’s quiet time

quietly for breathing,

in like withdrawn

shadow

out like an

empty can

rust worrying

depths

come in, delve

into the mattresses

of other mountains,

stride-

there by a river’s pure

whiteness feathering

ether-upwards-fountains past silhouetted steeples, peaks of men in lonely situations, mouthfuls stems whilst in pursuit of chasing, signatures do not last long in their unwritten shapes, go chase red malleable horizons that have fleeting golden stairs, a finale of seeking somewhere, look, i am without wings but soaring, father stood counting every raindrop in a pale valley where nothing speaks, i could have touched your goodbye

oh claw down the

moon, drag each

star, the surface

winches bright

patterns rinsing

colourfuls outright,

shoulders-shaken-dream-cull

it’s trance time

for re-waking,

reanimating

from twisted statue

from cemetery held kingdom,

perform tailing of

audible clocks

shade deep where

cold cafes now

diminish, oh what

colours i had all

tasted have finished,

inches awareness

like searching

it’s decay time

for leaving

to up end seas

to pause gasping

pausing constellations,

this breath wants

complete exit

depart the duvet’s

limitless encounter,

knowing years those

certain coffins unravel

drink coffee its brown river laps wakefulness, encourages what really wants to stay hoarded beneath, to stay below all grey and fade-able flowering follows greyish paths always to their downwards, and lounges, oh i was never tongue built to be

off now to the

outside’s wittering,

chatter like off key

pianos, there’s

music that sobs

and people sulked-

as-gravy telling no-one their names

offal heart-spaced

sadly i fit into one

of them, an office-

boredom, i go about

the manner of expectation

filling my soul with

imaginary money

five thirty hits itself

another day lost,

manage the corridor

that endless street-

light leant over orange

elbowed, home where

glows to be had

nothing can nail to the door when it closes, no being told or being got at by livid thumbs, upstairs i know what is coming