a transcription of something i recorded when i was very sad.

it seems like such a strange thing
but it really isn't
i've fallen through a wormhole
into potential space
it seems like a strange song
we haven't learned the words
and so we curse and curse
in hopes there's something worse
a reason to bring everything
to connections never found
a reasoning through all of things
procedure good and sound
an echoed moment in time space
brought here to the human race
to arrange a deadly deal
that they would like to steal
one of the prime jewels
from the emporors cabinet
and talking about wars
which they dare not to forget
a reason to bring all things
together now as one
we'll sit them down and talk around
the meaning of the one
and then we know when we just go
pressing into space
another cosmic leader for another human race
so when this is all said and done
and all accountants thrashed
we have a reason to go back
we have it put in trash

midlevel

fragments of a disenchanted faery world
arms hung low to guard the tide,
blood and tears
how simple her plot
hair wound 'round the pedestal,
legs and cloth
a dance
to become

although without anything else
she wouldn't have made it.
not the bayer's sweet call
as he hauled the shipload in

and as eternity bleeds
mortal lives sill can be
something more

in eventuality
care will come to those
who care.
and there will be
some room in there.

where she keeps it hidden
calling rat catchers on their business.

exit 3 0 9

lady goes down on you at work
forms of flesh pauses
worked, empty
dated valid question
missing ancestry hidden simian tone
lady leaves a pink note, elastic
and musical
functioning although
the inside parts don't mean shit...
it's all about converting up to down
the flies near the clock on the wall,
your sitting frame,
a room of blameless unity
how could it be the same?

around the start, before the illusion

programmed linear
shot-put photograph
endless reminders
connected differently
formed blast-space
endless lost embrace
coordinate slave-mate
visual congregate
of all shades from the sides
brilliance spouting out
reaching about
water finds its way,
and we all pause and stay
to find out where it sprays
ranged out in our summer clothes
bedecked, frocked, furnished
draped and pockets deep
mouths dry and teeth clean.

a two part poem in the middle of watching terminator 3

1

forget that he said
as he threw it in reverse
another wasted junktrap
no bottles to empty,
no girls on the highway
lately coming closer
the ending was to meet him
but he had to divorce her.

2

visualise perfect death
that's what he kept
when he left the nest
another line for these dead fools
let's hope we've got this right
because if we're going to be on radio
we've got to walk through, caution-tight

"e pluribus unum"

a subject foe,
matters not
for he isn't free
to choose apart
the noble fool
reasons in school
while although
he doesn't know
he's been cast by flames
he comes from a deep pit
his cancer is spreading
stems from memories
branching ideologies inside it he's
scared

my canteen

Caution never worried me
I've always kept it cool
my cap is off, that
is either
good or bad
formless function,
ending derivative
of your mouth on my lip
caused connection straight down the gullet
you watch when I am empty,
you fill me irregularly.
I wonder, do you always enjoy the last drop