too much too soon will ruin it all
without foundations you will fall
grapes take over my day in a fastest way
boiled water to wash away the pay
but what of the day
as it glides through mind recompiled
transparent images floating through air
being caught and put gently in my ear
while you drive your car out on the street
to places where you will meet
i catch my ideals and lace tinkles
smooth them out like old lady wrinkles
you drive the street to a place to meet
look away and let grow a place we wish to sow
try not run a mile
to turn outside an inside smile

cyclic redundancy

dangle grey carrot
day's end reprieve
saddle me up
peace of mind redeem

ass of the laborious
glue foot hooves seen
industrial surrounds
buzz computer glow screen

touch click mouse copy
inhumane paste cut
pixel square eye sore
words images sordid

life life schedule
hurry up to wait
watch blue line render
disposable art tape

knives

If only you were a butter knife – id be happy to let you smooth me out
Or one of those old quaint antiques ones, with ships of silver sailing on the thin blade.
Even a butterfly knife flutters off the tongue better
It can twirl in a hand and flap around striking me with awe at its lightning flit.
Fancy little red and white Swiss army knives
They smell of musty dirt adventures and hummus on Turkish bread in parks in berlin
Many days I watched as my brother cut air borne apples in half with his fong kong kitana
And history tales tell of long nights of a thousand knives slicing new paths to revolt against systems above
Cutting sleeves off Tshirts on hot days, trimming fringes when no scissors are about, cutting the rim off apple crumble pie…
But this one – this flip knife – cold – hard – used
nothing of pleasantries stirred up
an emptying exchange of divides
My philanthropy snatched turned rancid and
Your brash haste ingrained your disdain

Favourite friends

Feeling sulphuric
sick of this city's social climate.
If spit could burn
I would spatter.

my eyes feel a blur, like they have been here before...but the blur is looking pretty, like smudged colour when running by fast but capturing just one moment. back in the same room after time away, picking up on where i left off. yet the city doesnt seem to capture my breath as it once did. i left my breath back in another city - they seem to share it - take turns - holding my yearns

i have no reason to leave my desk