High Sooner

Nothing akin to the pathetic light of day wakes you
with such a start as a connection-
our earlier death marked the rise of a totalitarianism that picks
at the scabs on my knees until they are white,
click click and removal, pricks my ears with dark joy
at your head, your mouth, your breath that is also mine and the rabbit
that stared and stuffed its mouth with gemstones,
we gave it rhinestones
and it stared in disbelief, piercing sun shine beams knotting in its brow.
It's so dark but I saw an ear twitch, I heard slurred shouting
and broken glass mixed with the heady toxins of his mother's little precious
taking cocaine and whiling away the days until the dole office pays
and the trees mid-sway condemn the light of day
for agreeing to illuminate our stuttering bodies, rancid frames that strip off and
join together, filling soil and water and plant life with the overflow
from our dissatisfied minds.

England is dead, only the Pavillion remains. My butterfly answers swamp your
violent lies and latch onto the burden of rhyme,
black men walk through my head on blue fishes, asking me to strike
a match. But there's no time to sit down and reason
because the world is schizophrenic and I cannot argue with the mind
that walks in buttercup valleys and seeks the candyfloss reptiles
that dart and twitch for the next fix to keep their blood hot.
There is no longer a collective, and even the most militant of feminists can't shout
loud enough to drown out the sound of drool falling from billions of mouths
onto steel.
Shallow dystopias mapped out in the minds of pessimists crumble before
a vision of paradise. In your beautiful head, there is no you. Nor me.

Full

So busy at the moment.. No time alone.. No poems..

Be little

playing the white noise in my head
purple barriers march to the tune of a luna goon
tapping angrily at a useless keyboard
without noticing that in fact
it is not passé
work out what I'm saying and put a tune to it
put a tune to what I'm saying and work out to it.
Heroin
likes my mother at night time in the special night
they lunge for her with brittle fronds
and grasp with foam fingers a new life strife
amidst the heat the beat creeps to our heads and strikes out at a rabbit
pointing towards nodding something yes or no but never
communicationing flying ing
the g is so important.. and not at all.
defy full stop. My bra weighs time. Oh so you think I am female now?
Oh let's fuck off. I can't vacate my seat at this precise point in time, neither can I do anything else, or anything after that.
Everything growls.
Growl is the most versatile word in the English language.
There is pressure on each side of my neck.

Sweat (disrupted poem)

A horse threw a coconut at my throat
watching glitter stars scratch their backs
on empty chewing gum wrappers
shaped like disc butter.
There are kids rapping at the door
making fruit in digestion
making fascists on their mother's knees

I

Stabbing my starbucks
On top of the 25
Where teen spirit can't sniff me out
Nothing happier than me
In my ears