26 February 2011

DRAFTadelaide stone

in adelaide 9am
february shadows
in the accom his
rapid fire bacon spits
as coffee textures grip tongues
we talk, we demand attention
we stress past, seek neoligisms
in hash-brown salt narratives
a yellow food bonanza
without a beefy grin
we're slicing each others' pink flesh
as the heat pulls hard thick sheets, thin streets
in toorak gardens, no birdsings
besides doves coo coo
and if we were iggy pop we'd have
hands in pants before breakfast
but we're not
we're in this town
this town, with beached corners
and bleached hill rationality
no comments

23 February 2011

DRAFTstudio niner

at the edges of this box
the acoustic whispers
reach painted jarrah splinters
i'm crouching deep here
trying to stay frosty
in this fat bitter heat
covering my sector
in sonic waves as if
as if
i were a vainglorious chemical reaction
a violent distortion
of fact
of fiction
from the ceiling, bleeding
spitting, our melanin shared
in thick wet shafts, deeper than our skin

at some point i can
potentially bend you
in quantum nonchalance
a february ray
of clitoral light,
in cliched velvet curtain
in the black corner
in out
in out
breathing in short
sharp bursts
as hostile
as this day

20 February 2011

Rad El Aide things

In Adelaide on Sunday 27 Feb to do a little bit of stuff on the outer periphery of the extreme fringes of the Adelaide Fringe Festival.

16 February 2011

maitland v antipoet


i don't fit in lost lonely alienated disconected
Where do I belong, I belong by her side but she is not here
Just around the corner half way around the world 20hr plane flight

FUCK these solid walls, massive rushes of pure pain
this time our narrative face first into desert rock
this spinifex cuts exploding at my thigh
naked again
at sunrise, we're bursting for air
choking on each others skin
we're burning

Head achs can't see clearly can't think clearly con't move on
Why not?
Take my heart out I don't want it
It causes to much pain suffering sadness
RIP IT OUT please

yes - i'm a cave of my former self
and it spins in digital slices
bashing fists into shifts of black time
there is no tick tock tick tock here
just flashes of white and waves of shit

My beautifull world - Nick Cave
I'll be there - Powderfinger
Lovesong - The Cure
Love will tear us apart - Joy Division
It's a god day to die - Robbie Robertson

i wish i could just swallow your black cancer
and walk away, walk away into this cave
this 5 star bitumen noose

How does one get rid of oneself
Suicide bump off kill destroy end
There are a multiple of ways I suppose
Shoot hang drown overdose jump etc etc
Take your pick
Can you try before you buy?
Sample each of them to see which way best suits your needs
desires image of how you wish to leave this world

so, collecting every specimen desires in cement bodies
shelves of past selves and futures yet spent
our feet never touch the concrete
chemicals kickin in too hard, way too soon
our graf strokes fading in 39 degree jarrah memories
a city in denial of itself, a uniform
the waft of the river, the doctor at midday
and our tales get taller by the telling
and you, inside me
like a black snake painted

You wander the streets late at night
Drifting from shadow to shadow
lingering often to watch and look at those
who unlike you drift towards the pools
of light fluro street shop nightclub
Moving towards them you mingle
They don't see hear listen notice you
They look through you like you don't exist

and its true in this mirror of us
you dont exist
maybe you never did

So slipping back into the shadows of memory you walk away

walk away slip back
walk away slip back
walk away walk away

02 February 2011


im bored im bored im bored im bored
im bored im bored im borderline

and there's you
and this cigarette butt
a trainstation carpark transaction
in a bleeding bitumen stumble
at the android head-rush collapse

then yr fingernail mosaic at our cab-rank
that push-bike skateboard crush in the grass
an intolerant haircut on footpaths
only this time more
doors closing

than tweeting trends or inorganic products
and dude im not racist or anything but
what you talkin bout willis - and i pity da fool

coz, im, like

im bored im bored im bored im bored
im bored im bored im borderline

and theres your freeway piss-stop
on the way home every time
you've drunk far too much fresh food
or didn't drink enough low carbs here
in a friday suit without watches
waiting, shouting politely at marble barstaff
chrome thumbs in deep pockets
for existential people to show

and they don't

im bored im bored im bored im bored
im bored im bored im borderline

but in a glass city like this
the streets littered with cups
n wrappers n bags
n bottles n cans n wet logos
not bullets or cairo soldiers
or roadkill in this february wind
tearing at my presidential face

and i cant negotiate the change
or the messages waiting, waiting

or the vibration in your palm
as we stare at each polyphonic reflection
wrapped in graf-etched vistas
like fascinated jpegs

and yet

im bored im bored im bored im bored
im bored im bored im borderline

im bored im bored im bored im bored
im bored im bored im borderline