Silence

Sometimes when it's under cover quiet
in the lonesome peaceful night
when the newest scam's done shouting at our eyes and fried egg brains
and the beast's stopped propagating poisoned air
and the vans and yellow coats and blackened teeth are gone for now
For now
we can hear our own voices
maybe silent almost imperceptible
screaming and writhing to be free or fight or cry
from constant noise and daily trauma and why is everything dying or dead or outrageously preposterous rich
in the daylight safe sunlight
where compassion supposedly prospered

Hot Také

DRiNK

your own melancholy music

pushing pushing you further into a self inflicted pit

of who the fuck

and what and why and when

you’ll be ruler straight

as narrow as a hot wheels track

bending forever round

a preconditioned hairpin

you hope will, one day

straighten out.


Christ bury the shock

the day you realise

you’re going in

endless devastating precipitated circles.

haahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

help us please.


Look upon this plea

and give our spines a wholesome hug

a hug we’ve been begging for

for half a generation, and one

that maybe we can

pass on

beyond our feeble arms.