devil's circle

daylight expletives “damn this irritable waking” insufferable

yet cosy inside the duvet’s twisted solution, bliss isn’t now

as the surface retrieves its corpse, upwards as being dragged

towards, additives and all, “what’s the fucking hell am i living

for?” “to keep etonians at their golden skulled tables?” skies

as per usual duct taped in that most miserable of greys worn

thru by many a heart, inflicts listening into downward thinking

each room knows its stale and stapled with old earrings of

the past, now is like looking thru rain, like trying to be beyond

what can never be passed, widths from the same old footsteps,

footsteps that are forgetful become lost, become gone, loss is

everywhere as time, two jaded floors down my father’s ghost

tries resitting in an unsettled chair, failure to do so will be

no other apparition, knowing the fused circle i am upon

waiting in a station appearing as blood waiting for that final train

made of pages, a lifetime half written half supposed half dread,

that kiss that never blew itself redness never grew love, dark

panes lean inwards towards where i try dreaming at being still,

a reenactment of the dead perhaps, trying to be deeply unaware

in the cotton cartoon deep dunes like refolded hills where childhood

had its fill of kites its fill of gleams, conveyor belted on dreadful circles

here then dead then brought back to relive to reclaim, to reconsider

then to die over again, circle tied to and tied down, that gnaw of

time is a foe, i am tired of seeing me slain tired of its pity, mouths

pick at to butcher, the remains of myself gone thru, a buRnt out

diminished library, gargantuan roses of discolour ages, i was never

that winged, but a line inside a globe re-follows, when can i tear up

the last day the last terrible minute? i am swallowed and quite defeated

born into this sack of carbon living, the dribble of its light, pond life

mostly in trousers, mad as hormones, plug godly into the church’s

afterlife, lunatics all of them, a slow hearse carries us all, chem-trails;

poison; convenient slaughterhouses, how do you vaccinate from the

past? all the dead pictures coalesce there are hugged there, each has

a strangle, there’ll be a vacancy to existence, when this swarm of stupids

completes extinction,  the circle to our loneliness will decease, thankfully

likewise in tepid showers

that boy

in a moonbeam chased hearse

a teardrop full of ocean,

that glimpse whilst leaving,

regrets, sadness tall as skies

those beach

days where towels slipped

into slimness, and touches

became the surf, oh foamy

as let out voices groan

lifetimes, togetherness,

poetry that bound decades,

extreme maps a semester

of soaring than down, low

as an abattoir’s grief

older, threw itself

bolder, made into stiff castles,

friendships going because of

death, afternoons gather fewer

likewise we gaze ourselves slower

what used to crackle

and ensure the duvet’s earthquake

has tired out its accomplishment,

first home initials fade upon what

now craters and pales as wallpaper

a goodbye

has been nailed to the shutting

of a moment, into the creak of

a chair that wants what is there

to be held in forever

what took lips

to redden and be a stammer of shoulders

a collision that both glistens and pearls

what peaks there were from being hidden

to outwards and huge spasm

now alone is

left to mire, to dig its own sullen moor,

of birds too fatigued to holler or useful

at the wing to hover, the gate is harmed

by not closing, i think you in -

stood

like a handsome pose, here is supposed

to be lathered with kindness, and kept there

for foreseeable going, soon the timetable

will strike itself a singular ticket

considers,

will this be the last leaf to fall

the last glance where the world

will ease into quit music? the

window’s concluding stage?

weeds

tiny as childhoods, thistle the past’s

blur, reminiscent of tinier hands that

took to father’s grasp, a silent swing

that separates distinct shadow

likewise, floors, hummed lighting, other beds fuelled floatable clouds, dismiss from ever being

pale nurse drifting

smells of stealth, handing out

paleness, each vase knows its

dying exit, mine happened to be

roused rust nasturtiums - breaking their dying red applauses

into the creamy shores

and the deeps ask for more,

give them every footstep been

for pursuing somewhere is done,

the drawn curtain becomes, quiet as a wall

need

surface lit, what predator

negotiates beneath it? an

emptiness gargoyle

muscular as a precipice?

what was autumn’d quietness

proceeds raucous

rainbow edged rip roar edges

clumsy as a howl on soar and

fumbles the turquoise of its

lightning, enters my planet

yet more, the plains are stiff

to consume

inches first then thru its soul

cannot quell, cannot quell,

the preached surface is hit

none come to assassinate it,

no tranquil no lazy lids, my

city uproars want and squalls

take the mucky spire, uproot

the unnecessary floor, i’m a

conduit for a screeching butterfly

storm, they write their bodies

all over skin that reeks touches

sticky affairs come oil-over-glances

ah colourful crashes until synapses

go energy-less and drop their pistons

and skeleton culls, nailed dreamers a

duvet of loose ferns, a hundred

names under its calm, the protein

of its shell without a shore

once

the yesterday

of your taste

has gone

impetuous from

its yawn, pierces thru me no more

unsuitable streets collect remnants

collect glitter wetness, a radar’s precision

observes only trousers, whose on

smile to snare me now into thickness?

ghost the beige cafe too many stares-

shard into cappuccino innards

the best glance is one that says

“fuck romance”, valentines and

gob shaped roses are for the balding

man excitable in abattoir thirteen,

go on commit to the foe to somehow

tree outwards in pheromones

exert and malleable wishes taken

to wrists, handcuffs of full kisses,

skinfuls are museums, orchid coloured

in a throat a male damsel, swollen, glowed,

i collect holes, quite forgettable

mouths, neither are for following

this surface

i am a burial under it, besotted

breathable re-tailoring my own

greyness my unachievable wreath,

to cease at nothing would belittle

upsurges of angst to repossess anyone