Car Wreck

She lay out on the carpet of dreams.
Halogen stars scorched chaotic paths
through the viscera of chipped windscreen.
Her soul tumbled into the hearth.

No Lens

My bleedin' fuckin' eyeballs
survey the Wasted Land,
Snaggin' on fish-bone aerials,
Seduced by this life most bland.

Momma Buys The Smack

She loves him to the point
of the needle suckling his arm,
Helping him to anoint
that deathly union so calm.

A mother loves her dear son,
With every puncture of his skin,
Beyond the brown opiate gum,
She helped him place therein.

Even as he shivers,
His blue flesh cleansed by morning,
She'll pray he's a survivor,
And promise to always adore him.

Nirvana

quiet loud
quiet loud
QUIET loud
hush

Lyric

Sometimes you have to write the words to a song
only you can hear.

For Lee

The Scot Queen of Farringdon
Will no longer traipse its streets,
The city’s vast chessboard
Lies in shards at his feet.

A holographic shell
Hid his raw bones,
A touch of gothic
Laced his black throne.

Deft fingers wove
Such dark fantasy.
The Queen is now dead
Rest in peace, Lee.

Crossing

The sheets were sodden,
Painting her skin as she moved her long limbs.

She had forgotten
What led to the bleeding – had it truly been him?

She closed her eyes,
To watch shadows flicker amongst dead memories,

Smiling so childlike,
Parting’s warm touch; a lush bed of lullabies.

Turtle Egg

Insect songs beat against the tar-black night
chiming in chirrups, reptilian tongues.
He softly sobs - white sea-dust fills his lungs,
while behind him, those cardboard hills glow bright.

His plastic dreams scale the sidewalk’s scarred skin
impressed with the same grit as dispelled gum.
The shadows are snagged by the charring sun,
their characterless egos long hidden.

With day’s decay comes sharp chemical light.
He greets it, this time, with naked back turned -
Using all his effort to muster pure spite.

Even when the phosphorus leaves him burned,
He withstands averting his rigid sight,
With nothing ahead, there’s nothing to fight.