05 March 2009

them best poets of my generarion...

we witnessed the best bent minds
of my generation tonight
in an angel-brained blue room

spitting hammered bits
of ruptured angry hips
like burning melodies of atoms

a fix o' stars
our pheromonic language
at each others tattered
cotton fringe

this being the right room
for an argument

no it isn't
yes it is


metaphorically starving, craving the
hysterically fully clothed pissing
analysing our hollow-eyed naked wardrobe
a capital new colour - a heaven

a silk ancient fuck
obey unshaven walls

a clusterbomb
our daisycutter romance
chemicals, she said
no more war, she reckons
bleats like a vegan sheep


as we reboot our collective cock
into slivers of auctioned vaginas
glistening lips in cello light
a balcony of cigarettes

but yet we bled words
bold burned in wastebaskets, she says
a balloon for a smile
kite photos
never taken

its at least
a mile
a kilometre
a pounding dynamo
of stanzas of gibberish
a thud
this skin

a skillet

of image
our semiotic
a tearing
of skins
of werd, of meaning
a tanked-up clatter sentence


No comments: