Use-
Less
Washed
Up
Nobody ever
Knows
What
Is
Going on.
Worth-
Less
Beaten
People
Running around
Like
Chickens with
No heads.
28/02/2010
25/02/2010
Check it.
milkforthecat.blogspot.com
Everyone check out this blog. Some good shit by a friend of mine.
Everyone check out this blog. Some good shit by a friend of mine.
24/02/2010
Untitled 2.
I can feel the disaffection
In men beaten to death
Outside their front door.
I feel it in all night
Parties where alcohol is
Harder to find than ket,
And lips have been gnawed
By swinging jaws.
The kid with the shaved head
To the student finally realising
That it's a perfect day for bananafish.
Bruised arms and bloodshot
Eyes, always trying to touch
The sky.
In men beaten to death
Outside their front door.
I feel it in all night
Parties where alcohol is
Harder to find than ket,
And lips have been gnawed
By swinging jaws.
The kid with the shaved head
To the student finally realising
That it's a perfect day for bananafish.
Bruised arms and bloodshot
Eyes, always trying to touch
The sky.
Untitled.
Closed doors, scented pillows,
Your hips, lips rubbing mine
Between the willows.
Rustic fences block the
Way. Sodden galoshes,
Cold little digits.
Tea and hot chocolate.
The plague negating chances
Of goodbye kisses.
Your hips, lips rubbing mine
Between the willows.
Rustic fences block the
Way. Sodden galoshes,
Cold little digits.
Tea and hot chocolate.
The plague negating chances
Of goodbye kisses.
Hermitage
In your hermitage
the floorboards creek
with journeys for tea.
In your hermitage
the dog sleeps sound
just behind your feet.
In your hermitage
the walls are lined
with other peoples feats.
In your hermitage
notes ring out on
hibernating, solitary ears.
In your hermitage
the curtains touch the floor
but seem to never meet.
In your hermitage
you try to fathom how
your world is not at peace.
the floorboards creek
with journeys for tea.
In your hermitage
the dog sleeps sound
just behind your feet.
In your hermitage
the walls are lined
with other peoples feats.
In your hermitage
notes ring out on
hibernating, solitary ears.
In your hermitage
the curtains touch the floor
but seem to never meet.
In your hermitage
you try to fathom how
your world is not at peace.
Doctor.
I have my personal doctor
Who visits me at home
I call him up, he comes to see me
Whenever I'm alone.
He tries to keep my head in check,
Helps me with my troubles,
Helps me lift the bottle and
Sometimes serves me doubles.
When the sink gets blocked
And filled with recycled leftovers
Out comes the tool box and
The one, the only Mr. Muscle.
When she eventually performed
Her final half pirouette
He said chin up a drinks the cure
and kept me out all night.
Who visits me at home
I call him up, he comes to see me
Whenever I'm alone.
He tries to keep my head in check,
Helps me with my troubles,
Helps me lift the bottle and
Sometimes serves me doubles.
When the sink gets blocked
And filled with recycled leftovers
Out comes the tool box and
The one, the only Mr. Muscle.
When she eventually performed
Her final half pirouette
He said chin up a drinks the cure
and kept me out all night.
Beat.
Remnants of what once was.
The floor gently curved in
From many shoe-stomps.
The views: well seen and
More recognisable than your mum.
The guide quit his job.
Reason: the repetitive, incessant
Questions. He was born ten
Years after the boom and
Only needed the money
For the weekend, now
Regretting an entire decade.
22/02/2010
Have Heart.
Daisies fill your dreams
Centred with brunette eye.
You try to cover your pleasure
In only a thin disguise.
To no avail.
Centred with brunette eye.
You try to cover your pleasure
In only a thin disguise.
To no avail.
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