Broken Telephone

Logical, logical, logical,

steps

give give give

till the world volcano
expires
exposes
errupts

engages

and is

river - river - river

river - river - river

Pin cushion no longer
no longer
no longer
at all.

IAM

For a love of physical presence,
I drink water, fold lilies and screw
like a wounded minotaur.

All horns, all head.

For a love of misadventure,
I journey without looking both ways,
build bridges over people

get lost deliberately.

For a love of touch,
I come on time to your bed,
wreak havoc on your flesh.

All stubble, all chin.

For a love of water,
I drink 5 pints of tea each day,
shrivel to wrinkle in the bath.

All farts. More bubbles.

For a love of IAM,
I smoke, smile, drink, and exercise,
less than a coma patient.

All doubt. All faith.

But for a love of this life,
I take big steps, from small ones,
govern potential, with clay in mind.

All hands. On deck.

Pause for the Priest

Pause for the Priest
cause he’s all wrapped up,
backed up...
his knapsacks on his shoulder rack
an he’s walking n’ carrying
walking n’ carrying.

So pause for the Priest
cause he’s making progress fast.
Don’t laugh!
He’s not sat smoking grass
and the river that runs him is eternal
and old, eternal and old.

Pause for the Priest.
Cause he won’t stop -
shouldn’t stop...
and the sky in his eyes will drop
as he sees us screaming, meaning,
tick tock, tick tock!

So pause for the Priest
cause theres Priest in you
and all you do
is get wrapped up, backed up
n’ bottled till the spirit goes snooze
and you lose,

and you lose.

Believe Me

There is a jazz bar at the back of my head.
A silicon doll, with blonde hair, sleeps in my loins.
A kitchen sink grieves at my feet.

I have had both legs, in a plaster-cast,
Simultaneously

And that is no joke.

Believe me.

There is a car stereo in both of my ears.
A grand piano, rolls down the hills, I walk up.
A chair coughs politely, when I sit down.

I have fired a gun and burst, in too tears,
Ridiculously.

And that is no joke

Believe me.

There is a map of the river on my palm.
A man with wrinkly skin, lives in my pupils.
A boat I once made floats on the water.

I have had help with my technology homework work
Parentally

Perpetually

And that is no joke

Believe me?

TALKING OF CONTRAST

…Talking of contrast.


Beginning at the end the world conquered itself
and did not laugh at it own beauty.

How could god be indulgent?

The horror then began for the judges
as their frowns found only sad and then happy.

Only sad and then happy.

Telling this story I have become the natural disaster
which follows me.

But I only lie to tell the truth.

…Would you follow me?

She; fat in comparison to the thin He; tall to the short,
clever to the stupid, sexy to those rolling hills.

we all dance on.

How were we to know indifference, in the face of this expanse?
Have you put the pins in my arms dear

Or have they gone right through.

Does this deodrant smell well for you

Have I killed or been killed by the supermarket
that governs the labels

by which I know you.

Don’t we all mean nonsense, flabby back chat,

new skool motor head meets,
alien dance lover seeking pain and accomplishment?

Does this fit the sky you’ll die under?

Is it all questions, this mist I must fucking lisp through?

Have you seen the dead

life lead and all?
I’ve not,

but I’ve heard rumours and whispers

and the trees have blossomed and died
right in front of me.

I’ve seen it.

We’ve seen it.

This mystery

This mystery
covered in life.

CLOWN FACE

Clown face

Oy clown face
what you at bruv
what you at

Oy clown face
what you at

You got splat written all over you.

I can see your teeth on the pavement
I’ll taste your blood clown face
I’ll taste it for real

Taste all your salt and your makeup and your shit

and your fucking shit.

fucking your fucking shit

shit to me

Don’t give me that eye boy

Don’t give me that eye

What you saying

what are you saying

what?

I aint looking for trouble

nah mate you got me confused with someone who gives a bubble.

Your fucking dead mate

fucking dead

You like meat?

well your fucking meat to me, I’ll fucking barbeque
your fucking skull

watch your eyes pop out your fucking mouth

Your still screaming bruv

your still fucking screaming

Nah mate you aint no brother o mine,

You’re a fucking animal

All dressed to impress yeah
dressed to impress

Well dress in this you fucking cunt

Dress in this you fucking cunt.

Abraxis

God of man and woman.
Demon and Angel

You are not interested in lawn mowers,
double glazing, or Volvo’s.

You have more time for air craft
and tanks.

More time
for lust and blood
and love.

Abraxas

You shit stirrer.