Cut

There is in the dissemination
Of illegal goods,
Prohibited and costly, born of need,
Defined by the subjugations of liberty,
Community and peace
Dividing ever further
The rich and the poor,
Alembics of distortion
That make it available,
Diluted, alluded to
And with an ambiguous integrity,
An illusion
Of credible substance,
Imbibed with suspicion,
Consumed,
Regardless with pleasure.

Black Line

Drawn,
Down,
Across,
To delineate,
Ascribe and emphasise,

My hand transfers intention
For better or worse,
But for whatever reason
You are my autobiography.

Just a few words for what...

The body is:
An outhouse,
Temple,
Church,
Cellar,
Car Park,
Sun,
Whipping Post,
Synapse,
Fruit,
Seed,
Dog,
Monster,
Forest,
Barricade,
Machine,
Painter,
Destroyer,
Index,
Glue Gun,
Lover,
Platform,
Star,
Son,
Sound,
Daughter,
Wavelength,
Time,
Light,
Juicer,
Blender,
Maker,
Ship,
Conduit,
Mirror,
God,
Library,
Sonnet,
Sold.

Armada

Nimbus clouds accumulate
As giant and towering sail ships,
Out in mass at sea,
Sailing along the lines determined
By their government
Of eddies and tides
High above, nudging and caressing
Their quiet communion of entropy.

Moment

I imagine a room of wax,
Filled with burning wicks and I look up to see
An aeroplane soar overhead
Through a clear and spring blue sky
As pregnant teenagers trace their own lines,
Across pebble stones, walking by.

Invective

She sits just behind me on the train
Between Canterbury and Kings Cross on a Tuesday.
She chews, continuously...
Like a...
Grazing animal, oblivious,
Entranced by vapid illusions
Garishly parading themselves
In colourful horror across pages of trivia
That she masticates over
And over and over.
Though she excuses herself politely,
Pulling at my head rest for a moment,
In aid of her rising to disembark.

Choking

Spinning out on my own bloody rubbish,
Jumping at the reflections,
Peaking from beneath the table,
Sniffing for the presence of creatures like me.

There's a room at the back where I keep them
Caught. Gnashing and leering,
Jumping, dodging on their hind quarters,
And leaving traces in condensation upon the glass.

Filthy with intoxication, sweating words like
Jaundiced eyes yellow with bile
And delivered slow; careful spears
In defense against this saline tide of mad.