BEFORE/DURING/AFTER21 March 2016
Watermelon lip jelly reclines on the rim; sheer dress like water traipsing along
my nerves. Silhouettes cloud my vision as I try to focus, amidst the
pulsating mist and warped reflections through a Perspex stem, on equally
Verse One reflects widespread revelry in letting her go
at the next kerbside collection; kinda funny that
although people come here to be unfettered, they’re always so
in their search for tighter shackles.
I spend the chorus creating cud cocktails in the toilet bowl; pine lime
bile and horseradish chunks in Gogh skyscape whorls —
second-degree internal burns, I can still hear your aphorisms about
the human-led destruction of the world.
Thistle collar now pansy purple;
you siphoned your savings so I wouldn’t have to stay at the station.
You take high roller bets on how long before the distracted driver rests his
elbow on the console, and gets the leg of the spider you hacked into quarters
stuck in his pores.
Beside you, a coach carriage full of men, daze-gazing through the
murky shit-faced windows,
The failures, you say.
How unlucky, I say.
Let’s cross our fingers for them, we say.
Abrupt recall through creaking, sleep-addled eyes: Oh, how haphazardly
my confessions fell into your lap, and did sordid dance
moves. My irises, rotating as fast as my tongue, logging
the give : take ratio for later playback.
Outside, through cider-gold venetian blinds, small dogs
paw at concrete. So that’s why I should have
trimmed their nails — they’re always looking for
something that isn’t there.