the mind knows
its destiny
and tries to cling
to time
by repeating there
isn’t much left
I make watches
not time
the heart beats
behind a
rib cage,
the man who sweeps
on the other
side of the
maroon door;
his broom
is begging for a
conversation
we dissect a million
frogs to try and
save them
and the leapless
legs lay
on their dry backs
as we sift intestines
through our fingers
looking for the
answers
to our
problems
and we all beg the world to be
what we want it to be
and the liver is covered
in scars
that tell more stories
than the page ever could
and the movies keep playing
and we idolise the actors
and we idolise the idols
and Jesus told us to never idolise anything
and we idolise him for saying it
there's a soft breeze that falls off the face of the mountains,
the trees look small from a distance but
from beneath they stand
tall
there are stars on the blanket
within a room
with everything
and out there the sunlight
of faces and the
smiles of passerbys
and the new and the new and the new
and if you don’t know how to spell something
you have to venture into the world
into the brains of others
into the energy they take
out there
there is so much
and could there be shame in having nothing to offer
or pride in nothing to take?
they walk
from the room of a workshop of tantra
as if they have all just been
fucking their inner child
and my small place of intimacy
will retreat at the sign of
exploitation
and
if you let go
you let go
with nothing
you begin to want
more of it
the sunlight cannot
reach me here
I am the moss
of damp green
the dark bug
with too many legs
the coldness
of black
and the more I resist
the world
of smiles
the more I become it
and the more
I wish to write
poems and words
of a world
ruined
the more I side with
it
more more more
I want more
of nothing
the broom behind the maroon door
begs me to answer
and
it seems
only I know
I do not
have
one
She sat in front
of me and she
was beautiful,
her brown hair curled
and looked like silk,
she wore jewellery that
confessed all the past
she carries with her
she is a psychologist
she tells me of the girl
who lays in bed
every day and
drinks two bags
of goon
she tells me
of the man who sells
his blood
so he can replace
it with
wine
she tells me of
the man who feels
morally superior because
when he is angry he
walks into the backyard
and punches the cow
instead of his wife
she tells me of
the boy who
plays music on the
street and
the noise of the coin
landing in
front of him is better
than anything he could play
she tells me of the man
who wants to sleep with animals
but cant find any over eighteen
and he may partake in bestiality
but never paedophilia
She tells me of the woman
who masturbates over
her father
tells me of the boy
who killed a wren
with a rock and
now he feels guilty
whenever he is happy
she tells me of a man
so addicted to sex
he fantasises about
eating a woman’s upper thigh
she tells me of the woman
who wants to drown her baby
the man who wants to drown his wife
and a boy who wants to
drown himself
She tells me of the businessman
who eats pen ink
to feel different
than everyone who is the same
in his skyrise office
the man who wears his wife’s underwear
whilst she’s at work
the woman who makes men bleed during
sex
the man who has an emotional connection
to his car
the woman who goes to the mall every day
for eight hours but doesn’t buy anything
the man who is 300k in debt and
knows he will soon kill himself as a rebellion
to banks
the woman who cant remember faces
the man who cant remember names
the lady who cant remember anything
the boy who has nothing wrong with him but pretends he does
because he is scared of being a loser
And the only thing interesting
about her is all of them
and she is trying to fix them
she is trying to change them
she is trying to rob them
and she is perfect
and that is scarier than
anything
she could tell me
what you can not see
what she can not see
and I cant help but
wish I was talking to
all of them
instead
of her
He told me he had not
had sex
for three years
and he has not
masturbated
for one
I had done
both
twice
that day
as I finished
a drink
he told me
he had not
drank for
eight
years
I liked Sam
and he liked
me
he thought governments
were just incompetent
and I said the
ones in charge know
exactly what
they
are
doing
he looked at me
as if I was
one of those
people
who hide
their wisdom
because they don’t
believe it
or do
like my stupidity
was conscious
and I looked
at him like
he was the buddha
Jesus
even Mohammed
or any of those
people who
truly believed
or didn’t the most
but we both know
we are just
us
whatever that means
a friend walks
past and asks if he can talk to me
i expected I had done
wrong cause
of all I had
but this time I had
not
I heard you are close with
her and I just want to let
you know I have been
talking to her and I didn’t
know and I apologise and
respect you
I smiled and
said she can do what
she wants
as we all
can
everyone is fucking
everyone
but Sam
as I sat back down
he asked if I could
remember what
we were talking about
I often forget
the year
you had just told
me that motives
are like crocodiles;
for every one you
see there are twenty
you don’t,
but how beautiful
hidden motives can
be
like the girls
who come here
for their 300
hour yoga training
and
as they lay
beside a naked
man who did not
exist three days
ago
they realise
they did not
come here for anything
but to get away
from
everything
and to accept isnot
to endure
and the world is
full of music but
you still find your
favourite songs
and if you cant then
you can walk away
and if you cant you
can dance
and if you cant
you can drink
and if you cant
you can at least
laugh at why
and if you cant
laugh then
they deserve
you
Did I say all that?
he read my book;
asked about Charlie
wanted to give advice to Will
said that he laughed and
then asked if I had dyslexia
and I once called
Harry,
Henry.
Let them think I
meant it Sam
he smiled.
I like Sam
and Sam likes me
and I do hope
soon I can
help him get a
fuck
As the rain falls the concrete gargles
the grass drinks
and the dirt turns to gravy
the rain falls and the gay men
are still men
and the women pretend they aren’t involved
that they’re better
that they aren’t just us
as the rain falls the music
plays through a crackling speaker
the rain falls and the names are
forgotten
the names are the same
there is no where to be
no where to go
as the rain falls
I take a slow drag of sorrow
a gulp of tomorrow
I listen to the stampede in my rib cage
I hum to the beat of the stomping elephants
I watch the pastel move on its own
and she tells me I make her
feel like a house fire in a monsoon
as the rain falls
between her legs a small piece of
paper sat on her left
lip and it was a note left
from god
I read it
it said
this will be your downfall
in my handwriting
as the rain falls
I ate the paper
and then the lips
and as I fell so did
the rain
and the concrete
was soft and kind to me
and the grass liked my taste
and the mud hugged me
as the worms had a meal
of a man with a smile
and the rain
kept on
falling
valleys run
dry beside
a thirsty child
in a house
where the angry
father
beats the
broken wife
war
that breaks
even the victor
rape on
the dark
path
cancer
in the leg
of the teen
dementia
draping the
once respected
businessman
there is murder
corruption
sacrifices
will
worship
sublimation
theft
and there
is even
liars
there are a lot of
tragedies in this
world
but none greater
than those who
can no longer
see beauty
with eyes open
and smile
when they are closed
none greater than
the those who
no longer laugh
when hearing
a
cow go
moooooooooooooooo
those who no longer
laugh at a sneeze
whilst alone
those who cant see
the rivers run
the cloud slide
the sun push colours
through time
who cant see
the crack of a
face who has gotten
a joke you said just
for you
who cant see
the look of a woman
who has
decided she wants
to be alone in a room
with you
coffee
beer
the spot of
a dog
to pat
Who cant hear
the universal sound
of children
mountains
beaches
horizons
there is no greater
tragedy than
no longer seeing
beauty and all she
has done for us
all she has broken through
as the rose continues
to land in poetry
as the dark red of blood
announces romance
there is no greater
tragedy in this world
we call unfair
than forgetting
to laugh at
the inevitable wave
on its way to
wash us all
away
no matter
how hard
it
hits
I do remember
hearing his father as he
run down a road
that would be full if
it was not 3am in the morning
there I watched everything break
as the one brave policeman
stood tall behind his uniform
as the paramedics
the firefighters
the curious eyes of strangers
and me
cowered away
from the words of truth
and no matter how much we
cowered
the truth lay with a missing
leg and a beatless heart
dangling from a seatbelt
that was attached to a seat
that was attached to a
ball of ruin
he is
dead
he yelled to his wife
who was one hundred meters
behind him
our boy is dead
it did not wake the birds
I went home
in the front seat
of a fire truck
and as I sat
in my house beside
my dog
the walls of
open curtains
were painted red
and blue
I went to bed
fell asleep
and my fragile life
went on
