Thursday, 23 February 2012

n

cup-a-soup fuck!
humanity diluted
in lunch time boiling
water beside a cooler
that REALLY couldn't give
a fuck! sandwich board dreams
sliding down the faces
of all of these would be painters
and talk show hosts,
pay-check masterbators
deluded by the interest
separating self from self
(the observer must observe that
he is the observed)
and it is thus
we conduct ourselves: thousands
of years -
tearing at the tear-glands
bending all the mind-strands
from water doing hand-stands
- to now sit here,
vegetated and cello-phaned
mundane fucking lame-game
let's all play the blame-game
- evolved from it all,
polystyrene cup in
hand,
keys in pocket,
paper on bus,
always holding
that

fucking

cup.

n

all the juicy fruits
hanging from the juicy tree
(tits cock pussy)
free free free!

Saturday, 18 February 2012

n

We wake up
in the hotel room
where the windows
are hot and
the water is cold.
Last night flower
wilts in cold glory
a poetic pathetic
slice of it all
(what flowers must fall,
in spite of it all)

Thursday, 9 February 2012

n

a couple of bowties walk in,
real starched gentlemen
of the finest liquor.
i open door, good
afternoon them and
politely smile.
"INTERESTING, YES!?"
the more portly of
the two quips
from a mouth silver -
spooned / dirty croissant /
fellatio wrung /
"yeeeeessssss sir!" retort's i,
bend over and assume
my place in this horrendous
society.

Sunday, 5 February 2012

Progress (a work in) N

I'm lying here on this
whisky morn, the houseplants
accusing me of terrible
things.
I have poisoned mother N,
sullied her with a real
concoction - filthy red
alarm clock booze.
outside her birds twitter
and tweet, thousands of
tiny missiles bombarding
my curtained window, soul etc.

Thursday, 2 February 2012

L

Simon says post hardcore is the best
Simon says Pols make the best
tattoo
artist
Simon says he can't stand
milk in his
tea
Simon's feet smell fucking
disgusting. but
I am happy to help,
Karma and all that shit.

oh yeah there was this guy,
from my high school, he was in
some [shitty] metal band too.
bit of a prick he was. reminds me of
another
dickhead from that time. Was an
English fucker who laughed at all his own
bad jokes, big glasses and a
big gap
in his teeth.

I hope he's dead. hope he
choked as
someone
shit in his mouth.
hope it was slow and painful.

Simon is still talking,
he's alright really,
for a
Polak.