Control

Outside the rain pours
and fogs up my windows until I’m encased
in a private car-shaped box
a universe of plastic leather and aluminium
and outside that is only a noisy nothing
knock-knock-knocking at the door
with tiny insect fingers

Inside is safe and warm
and when I sweat the
universe sweats with me

I Miss You

White sun fingers burst through cirrus
piercing the azure sky and flexing
pointing West with intensity
as if showing the way
urging us on with impatient beams

Down below
the sloop bobs slowly in the sea
the wind holds its breath in anticipation
while the lad watches from the crow’s nest
his skin like old leather
aged beyond his years
rope-callused hands fiddling with the telescope
squinting into the uncertain distance

Yes there is land ahead
he’s sure of it but makes no declaration
he eyes dark clouds that lurk behind
they are inching ever-nearer
but he is not afraid

The ship is steady
it will go the distance
it will stay the course
it needs only the winds of time
to carry it forth

In the crow’s nest the lad leans back
closes his eyes and telescope
and reminds himself that
the winds will come
Soon

Some People are Poison

Some people are poison
they’ll wrap around you like vines
and wring your neck if you let them
and they probably don’t even realize
what they’re doing.

Some people are poison
and some of them are in disguise
wearing china-doll faces and g-strings
snorting like a child and fucking like an animal
and inside very very cold.

Some people are poison
and thrive off their own excretions
shoveling dirt and grit and coal into the furnace
of a train car that isn’t even moving
and holds no-one’s interest.

Some people are poison
and dirty-haired and the colour of rats
will do anything for you while you’re in their line of sight
will lie, cheat, steal, rape and giggle their way to the top
and are worthless.

Some people are poison
and I want the antidote if it exists
a solution other than an ectomy
a slap or a wake-up call
I want to help.

Interpretations of a Freak Occurrence

Today I went to the bathroom to relieve myself. With a sigh I took off my apron while checking my facebook on my iPhone. Putting the phone away, I stepped up to the urinal and reached down to unzip my fly, only to discover that it was already undone. Then I reached inside to undo the button of my boxer shorts and let the little guy out, but it was already unbuttoned, my wang already free.

As I peed I wondered. Was this a stroke of luck? Myself already pre-prepared to pee? Or was it a narrow escape from embarrassment, humiliation and the frightening of small children?

(Not to mention public indecency!)

Thank God for aprons.

so tired

so tired I want to throw up
who’d have thought exhaustion could make you feel like this
12 hours sleep in 4 days
the heat
the heat
the heat
woke up today to go work
should’ve known it was bad
stomach disgusting and swollen
fat sack full of shit and bile
want to spit at myself
seeing that in the mirror
work and caffeine and work and caffeine
and for a little while its ok
and then its back to crap
the sweat
the sweat dripping
oozing like oil down my neck and back
candle flame burning on the inside of my head
on break and into the toilet before I lose my breakfast
but it doesn’t come out
take a shit instead
hot and bubbly and god-awful
when will it end?

Trying

She wants me in the day
she wants me at night
In between she’s got me sitting on ice-packs ‘til my balls ache with frostbite
but there’s nothing blue about them.
The sex is good
but honestly
my favourite part is afterward
seeing her looking so stupid and adorable
standing on her head
to help the sperm on its way.

Float

Yesterday I got a promotion
the boss said all these nice things
about me of all people
and I wondered what was going on
but couldn’t figure it out.

After he told me I tried really hard to keep from smiling
I didn’t want them to know
that I secretly felt validated
I didn’t want to relinquish my grip on my cool persona
I like that persona.

I still don’t understand
I stopped trying to impress people a long time ago
and that only seems to impress them more
I stopped trying to be accepted
and people seem to like who I am
I stopped looking for love
and it snuck up on me.

I don't get it.
I feel like everything’s gone crazy.

Trickles

At work, when the customers dry up and there’s nothing to do, the passing of time feels like the creak of aching bones. The superhuman supervisor is always one step ahead of everyone else. I think he has precognitive abilities. Anything I can think of doing he has already done.
My head gets that achy, floaty feeling, like my brain is slipping on ice. That feeling always makes me thirsty, so I grab a paper cup. I feel tired and hopeless and then I hear a noise that gives me hope! The clinky noise of the ice machine!
Forgetting myself, forgetting my surroundings, I crouch down and open the sliding door to watch the slow tinkle of ice babies being born and I smile.

Later I walk home and shield my face from the blows of the sun. Under a tree I seek refuge: a brief respite from the heat and a chance to wipe the sweat from my brow and regather my wits. Just when I’m feeling better I look down and see two broken halves of an eggshell. Instinctively I look up for a nest but see nothing. Down below is the horrible carnage of the ants, their gooey mandibles tearing at the yellow innards of the shell. Clawing, clicking, crunching.
I can’t watch.

Later at home, long after the sun has gone down, I’m still awake. I lie down in a bed with a gaping hole on one side and stay there feeling the pain of that void and nothing more.
I can’t sleep. I toss and turn for a while.
Much later, in a semi-lucid state, I take a pillow and put it against the wall, down low against my back. And as I drift to sleep I forget the simulation I have made and it becomes real, and for a few slumberous moments she’s lying next to me in the dark, our bottoms softly touching beneath the blankets.

Ways I Feel After Watching A David Lynch Film

Scared. No, Terrified. That is foremost.
Tired and Woozy.
That weird Headachy feeling. When your eyeballs slide.
Sexually Stimulated, particularly when Naomi Watts is involved.
Titillated, Fascinated and generally Overstimulated.
Confused like running through tunnels.
Awed that someone can imagine that way.

A Version of Me

Sometimes I wake up in the morning half alive half dead and wonder whether there’s any reason to get up at all.
Sometimes I realize I don’t like me a whole lot but that’s okay I’ll just create a new me starting now.
Yesterday I realized my narrative voice is terribly unnaturally inauthentically me.
Yes, yes there are a lot of things to correct.

Most days I spend at least 15 minutes wondering just what the hell it is I’m doing.
In summer I usually seize up in terror once a day wondering if this is the day my hair melts into the top of my head like some greasy cake decoration.
(Black things conduct heat)!

Sometimes I think my love of sci-f has taught me to be good at sex.
No seriously because I can suspend my disbelief and focus and not get hung up wondering how on earth I got myself into this situation in the first place.
Otherwise how would anything get done?

In certain specific conditions I will lose my appetite entirely for three days and not really know why.
Then my hunger will return at 3.22am in a rush like copulating teenagers.
And then what do you do?
Somebody tell me seriously I don’t know. Can you justify getting something to eat at that time?

Some part of me still wants to be used and abused by awful sorts because let’s face it doing the wrong thing can be fun sometimes.
Even if it ends up feeling like tearing the muscle clean off the bone.
No no wait no it’s more like that disappointment feeling.
Like that moment of quiet ‘oh.’ when the house lights go up at the end of night/start of day.

Sometimes I like to go swimming in the mornings even though I’m half a chance to drown myself.
Me in the water is like a fish trying to swim through chocolate syrup.
But that won’t stop me I’m stubborn like that plus I love that aquamarine colour of water in a synthetic body.

Somewhere I read that the smell / look of violets evokes memories of the dead and dead romance.
This interested me enough to write it down in my notes but how can I use it?
I don’t know anything about flowers.

Passenger

Today I’m not the driver
someone else is in control
but from him or her I’m totally
divorced.

I’m not sure that I trust the
person sitting at the wheel
because they’re always trying to make
a stop.

I hope they know the way to
go I’d help them if I could
but it’s difficult because I’m
half-asleep.

Little Tree

Here I have a little tree. It wants so much to grow.
It needs a lot to nurture it, but what I do not know.

I don’t know how to care for it, to get the balance right.
Frequently that keeps me up with worry through the night.

There is no other like it though that you won’t believe.
Secretly I’m worried that it’s losing all its leaves.

The little tree is stunted, sickly, colour drained to mauve.
It has no place to plant its roots, no sanctuary grove.

But still the tree it struggles on, it knows no other way.
Apparently it’s meant to keep on living day by day.

Sometimes I even prune the tree, to keep it safe and small.
I wish I could protect it, hide it, block it with a wall.

A person tried to strangle it, to wring its life away.
I didn’t get his license plate. It ended in a K.

It seems there’s always someone trying to hurt my little tree.
But half the time I tend to think the hurtful one is me.

Of late I have been wondering how long my tree can last.
Any way you look at it, 8 months won’t go by fast.

But if my tree can last that long it all might be okay.
Apparently I have to keep on living day to day.

Emma's Eyes and the Seaside

Looking through the windows
of fragile, gemstone blue
a looking glass, a portal,
a song begins on cue.

It feels as if a raft is
riding rapids in my chest.
It feels as if I’m coming home
to calm after the quest.

How can a simple pair
of eyes speak vividly to me?
“We will cross the borderline,
the gap across the sea.”

And though the dreams might haunt me
sending shadows in the night,
a beacon helps me find the way
from eyes of blue too bright.

And in that beacon’s shining gaze
I know I’ll find the shore,
and I can dock there safely
and be with my love once more.

Aileron Song

That tarot smile has got me aching
Honey drip eyes upturned to heaven
“Somewhere out there
the story of our lives is written”

[Chorus]
Did you really know we were ready to go?
Torn up, ripped up, metal debris
Little bits of fire falling into the sea

She’s locked me in with words of reason
Can’t seem to breathe, the air’s recycled
Fixed on this path, I’m acting like
My aileron is broken

[Bridge]
What’s the answer from above?
What truth pulled from the ether?
God looks at us and shrugs and smiles,
says “I don’t get it either”

The turbines cough, the engine splutters
We can’t compete with such resistance
Luck takes no sides, it isn’t fair
But what were we expecting?

I Don’t Belong Here (Positively Grant Street)

What am I doing here in this place?
Cigar smoke blown into my face
Made to feel like a fucking disgrace
My so-called friends leave me displaced
Among the phony's and their lines
Imported beer, designer wines
And do I like the new design?
It’s driving me out of my mind
The expression on my face is
Cold and stony

Invited for the sake of form
The people watch with looks of scorn
Some of ‘em wish I was never born
And even the drunk that mopes and mourns
Is about a million times more
Welcome than I am through that door
It’s about image and nothing more
And not even my sweet Lenore
Could convince me it was anything
Else but phony

The chain-linked circles lock me out
The social scene, the verbal joust
You’ll get your way, you’ll moan and pout
It all leaves me without a doubt
The glittered sparkled make-up eyes
Of deepest blue they can’t disguise
the thinly veiled threats and lies
the hostility behind your eyes
The unspoken warning that the
Cat’s got claws

And “he said”, “she said” let’s take sides
The petty squabbles and the cries
And though their brain cells might be fried
Even the junkies have their pride
And I’m not here to get involved
I don’t even think Sherlock Holmes could solve
The mysteries of those who are so devolved
And yeah I got a lot of resolve
But don’t ask for my opinion if all you really want
Is to hear yours

How did I get mixed up in this?
The brightly coloured curb-side mist
and broken glass and flowing piss
The lovers locked in deadly tryst
The blood red tint across the moon
The endless loop, the same old tunes
The fiery ashen scream comes soon
I wanna retreat to my cocoon
And act just like nothing
Even happened.

But what’s the use in trying to run?
They got me trapped they’ve already won,
There ain’t no knife, no sword, nor gun
No shield to save me from the sun
Of painful glaring bright white eyes
That pierce the soul and condemn the mind
And leave you stripped naked and blind
A coiled spring you can’t unwind
So stay on your toes and don’t let ‘em
Catch you nappin’

How am I gonna get outta this rut?
Surrounded by these hungry sluts
And this one looks like Jabba the Hutt,
And the scar on my hand from the cigarette butt
That you stabbed me with in your drunken haze
And the fevered sweat in the dancer’s cage
And the boys are going along with the craze
In the desperate hope they might get laid
And the mother’s all sit at home and pray
That their kids have been taught well enough to stay
Out of trouble and wear coats ‘case it rains
But if only they knew that there is no way
That the kids are ever gonna do anything else but act stupid
They’re barely lucid

Agent in Japan

Remy was a man
he was living in Japan
he said “In the neon city
I can forget who I am”
He drinks his cup of joe
in the morning ‘fore he goes
and then he disappears
into the streets of Tokyo

[Chorus]
You can run
you can run
but you can’t forget
you’re walking on a tightrope,
you haven’t fallen yet
You can hide
you can hide
from the things that they said
but they’re still scratching chalkboards
inside your head

He finds it hard to sleep,
dreams he’s drowning in the deep
he’s locked away a secret
that nobody should keep
The images replay
like the helicopter blades
and pretty soon his mind could blow
just like that grenade

The sky’s overcast,
the people pressing past
he’ll never be alone again
he’ll never be the last
He’s never truly free,
he drinks too much sake
and all that gets him through the nights
is karaoke

Davy was a Drifter

It’s a lonely speeding train
that runs along my chosen track
there’s nothing runnin’ parallel
there ain’t no turning back

My name is Davy
I live on borrowed time
Time
There’s a constant ache
in my railroad spine

I’m trying to make new friends
like it’s some emergency
but they speak in codes and riddles
on another frequency

This cold world
is a mountain I can’t climb
Climb
There’s a constant ache
in my railroad spine

I swam in the Dead Sea
but I couldn’t stay afloat
Everyone was laughin’
‘fore I’d even told the joke

There’s a bent and rusted person
sleepin’ in the marbled sun
in the cities central circle
but he’s visible to none

My name is Davy
I live on borrowed time
Time
There’s a constant ache
in my railroad spine

Mind Games

Oh
she doesn’t look at me
the way she did before
Oh
she stares so angrily
but she don’t use the door

She looked at me with those
dull windshield eyes
raised a brow
and looked away into the sky

Oh
I don’t want to argue
I don’t mean no harm
Oh
it feels like struggling
to keep an ocean calm

A fragile glass breaks
in a corner of my mind
It’s even sadder that these golden years
are meant to be our prime

I’m on the podium
but then you take the floor
When did our love become
an endless game of tug-of-war?

You said I broke you into pieces
like a teacup in a storm
well we owe it to each other
to not let this be the norm

My Day This Is Not

We met in a bar
she said come to my car
and we can go back to my place
It was all in good fun
‘til she pulled out a gun
and the colour, it drained from my face
This wasn’t as planned
I held up my hands
an’ she took everything that I got
And though I wasn’t dead
I still shook my head
‘cause clearly my day this was not

So I walked on alone
and when I got home
the wife asked me where I had been
Though I did not confess
she still smelled my breath
and soon she had started to scream
“Go on explain,
why I should remain
or else sign here on the dot!”
So now I was divorced
I felt such remorse
clearly my day this was not

My feet were like lead
so to go clear my head
I went off and sailed to the coast
And amongst the sea air
and the mermaids so fair
I felt I had something to boast
But as I came into dock
the keel struck a rock
and soon it’d sunk my yacht
And as I swam ashore
I couldn’t take anymore
clearly my day this was not

But through it all
I’d get up when I fall
say “Tomorrow’s another day”
For if it was not
then myself I’d boycott
‘stead of pushing on through the fray
When it’s getting me down
I try not to frown
though I often feel it’s my lot
I’ll keep moving on
‘til the day I am gone
but the last of my days this is not

Berlin

Are you afraid?
Underneath
Static-coloured sky

Feel the vibrations
Social minefield
Watch your step
Watch your step
Where’s it gonna land?

Hitler’s in the parking lot
In the dirt
Underground

Watch your back
Keep your eyes on
The Blue Gate
The Blue Gate
Guards are on the edge

Keep away from me
Those tombstone teeth
Barbed-wire hair
Ripping up my face
Hurts my eyes
Bomb-scare breath
Leave me gasping
Where’s the mask?
Where’s the mask?
The dark eyes?