Thursday, 29 April 2010

n

there's a
hole in my
head i
found in
the shed
what calibre
was the
rifle?

Thursday, 15 April 2010

L

sliding down a mountain is super fun!
until you fall over. then you imagine the snow
is the faces of all those you hate.
you stab your ski pole into their faces,
again and again.
then you are happy

Wednesday, 14 April 2010

n

here me
now
godard got
hard over films that
should not rhyme.
well we,
the collective we,
we fuck him collectively
in the ass with progress,
sensibility,
reasoning,
and
decency.
blur it up,
cover the balls and deny the
penetrated rectum it's
exposure before it returns to
closure only
to open again
to shit and
call it art.

Tuesday, 13 April 2010

n

fat fuck on
the till, scan my
peas
beans
ice
creams
i screams
"NICE SPLEENS".
floor?
see?
needs
cleans.

n

run rabbit
run from the
smoking gun of
your ferretted mind. spy
a dead bird, needled
through the crotch, lying,
just lying there to
the sound of the day and
the big brass
band and
to the sea
gull's delight.
food for he, king from
the sea and eat it
too, munch it down
and the big brass
band and
they play on louder,
louder,
louder,
louder and
fly, little
bird, fly against
the rain drops that cuss
your feathered back, and
find a
slice, any
slice of
the world that's
not shapped
like a penis, thrust
up and in your
face.

Monday, 12 April 2010

n

orgasm who
has'em ? dirty you,
blue and saxo -
phoney.
filthy fraud in a
moonlit movie.

Thursday, 8 April 2010

L

looked just like him
a dead ringer you could say,
born into this you
could say. ruff skin, like
he'd been rolled around in an hour glass.

if it really was him,
really fucking was him,
would i kneel (neil) down and kiss that old
cunt's feet? that drunkard genius?
that talker of the times?

Tuesday, 6 April 2010

n

L, burning out there
softly in the snow as it
melts through spring,
dandelions with cum in
their eyes.