bled satchels

gasp at the gate

lungs won’t take further,

this stitch hurts hellish

the world bent over

at least monday is

shoved, and that

ritual of being chased

performed

tuesday tho’, crashed,

caught by the uniform and

pummelled against railings,

insignias of bruises shan’t last

which way safely tomorrow?

be it elbowed behind the

back? or if minutes are sadistic,

stripped and excruciated

over into pen-nib-scratches

brambles sharp as hooligans

by the railway line where

freight is too tired to trundle

smothers keen and quick,

ridicule tho’ severe was

completed, had the defeated

sprawled like a dead kitten

i’m pee soaked y-fronts

and grunted with that

metallic taste among spit

humiliation certainly at its limit

quite slain and grass stained

scruffy as a corpse not found

for a week, there’s glass beneath

where i dare not uncurl from

there isn’t lucky but misfortune,

before the bell cowers and the

dash homewards considers, “which

plight shall be unobserved stealth?”

“which lane should be fled down?”

assured dusk will hide you but

dusk often lies, prey will always be sought

to do another’s homework

home is where fearful grows

insipid and doubting, these

teenage years often grenades

and glands, fast oils happening

succinct and cruel as a headline

the mirror is slick with laughter

knowing difference will be picked

on, hatred always likes nudging

as sure as rats in their congenital

sewers, sons are about like

magpies, mobile phones sharp

as cleavers

copied to a voyeuristic population

post its spiteful degradation,

why can’t this curse point

elsewhere or not at all?

it’s murder by tiny slices

that uncomfortable bite,

why is unnecessary torture

gleeful? some still have the

boot marks to prove it,

still that shivers alienation

and not quite fitted to be

ordinarily dull

so do not bluster that those

damned days were inherent

kindness and lenient, it

was hellish and not the route

to be better sorted, i’m now

lacklustre and thwarted,

audacious predators thieved

devoured the only time i had

fly

i will fly

to you

when the

soul pleases

there’s a prison

called life here

it succeeds at failure

reaching everyone

sincere as hatred

passed gene to gene,

or congenital protests

roaring their black sails

i will fly

to you

when the tired

soul passes

when it

succeeds

from from the husk

that dispossesses

sooner than a vindictive

headline which is daily

and metes out particular

poison

there is a cell here

called depression

successful at

cancellation

accountable no-one

achieves the daydream-

slum thinking their

peak’s facedown

and graffiti art, trite wit

succinct and unfunny

eyefuls, comments upon

the fat way we stride

mine happens to be

downwards and fooled

into thinking that wasting

is sublime

doldrums, confetti bored rain

laziness as it drips,

like wet epidemics, most

heads are full of it

i’m waiting in the sore of a view

a legless pram half a doll’s head

for company whilst strangers

keep to their noise and drift on

how many zero’s are in empty?

how many hours have eaten me

thru? ask the countdown to

quicken the pistol to be wrung

an hourglass of elbows stiff as

discordant striving, watching the

last arriving smudged evening, the

finale always falls as disappointment

knowing that tomorrow has an

appointment, unsuccessful sheets

haven’t pulled, windows aren’t for

escape, their habits too blandly grey

clock appalled silence as each

“now” perishes, at least grease

its goodbye, it’s stubborn waiting

for occurrence to happen

ensure the road has been packed

with all the blunders belonged to,

few successes gave up their hidden

mountains, applause? there was none

readying the finishing horizon, that final

absurd moon shape, it dances like a hole

on the upturned floor, that minute lingers

quite fascinated, a grasp let’s drip a note -

that has sighs upon it

will you admit me

once i leave this gaol

of ligaments, this shell

of ordinary corduroy?

sinew may struggle and the

lungs should want to renew,

there’s a whine in blood that

shouts “don’t”

discontinue the rot of here and

soar towards the elsewhere that

poets try to detail with wonderful

lines but somehow fail

loneliness fell away, an outline

now a filled in statue for insects

to browse before my sleep is

found and made into fanfare

wishful truant

heydays house fallen days bad

lipped and grim school gates,

swollen teenage and enraged,

education at its most war faring,

dragged knuckles thru the crisp packet

littered hedges where often shyness

tries hiding, so awkwardly failed

several times pummelled, make the sixth

a real skinner a grazer, stars concuss

about confused full blown cartoons,

satchel slung and strewn of it’s second

hand stomach, homework-vomit kicked

thru the mud, entrails of what was precious

a fountain pen in aneurysm

ruined as rust serious railings a torn

sleeve a shirt quietly bled in, a badge of

phlegm as if the vikings have just ransacked

in their scruffiest doc martens, unseen crimes

will always be willing, pack up your hyaenas

and scarper to scavenge someone else’s

brother, suckable upon each other’s malice

underage and cigarette lit behind the badly

mauled pungent bike sheds, elsewhere

hormone sieges and stink, cruelty and

rampages, a football stampeded upon as

if a chased head to kick, to bludgeon the life

out of its lung, thistle over the dour

pavements, pedestrians oblivious -

clueless of the barbarism, hateful that

is homegrown and nurtured and nasty as

a murder, shiners and punctures a needle

from a compass draws hopelessness,

teacher gargoyles snarl a well aimed missile

a chalk grenade startles, excruciates

detention soon recages, downcast and wasting

later slain, ridiculed by hoodlum scratches

near to that dreadful kiosk looks-when-window

-opened like a psychopath or a horror film’s grimace

cliched jaw ajar, walls and swear word agitated,

lie like an injury like a butcher’s enthralled meat,

lie there and take what’s coming, a brutal

beating, a repeat of yesterday’s shower scene

worsens still, lately evenings harbingers of

what is to be nailed next, double maths then

afterwards, thirteen and buried before older,

hey dead pupil running towards academic

irony and foes, there’s a boot with

your face smeared against it, dog shit days

those were, pencil thru the thumbnail

heydays gruesome days unfit and destructive,

buRn those despicable memoirs unconscious,

thuggery minded, classrooms tiny anti-

socials of hell, march of the sharp bell’s enforcement

or the cane’s sadism, vile, vile learning repeat

tedious lined, POW’s in school uniforms, please

delete my monday morning noose tie wearing

despised despite being heralded, being the best

years, i still grow the scars, still cannot encounter

the canine-toothed gates, their yawn too septic, 

still compiling gruesome, that bandage of time

isn’t nearly enough of an analgesic, it’s so sick

what those predators did, callous and indifferent,

let’s knife wound the reunion

90s grim

grim needles trying to be

autumn, spares no veins,

into the eye-less-ness of

anyone, into anti-wonder

what is left to use?

a right carve out of

the heart has made

love redundant, felt

the last gnaw and

spiteful blisses itself

- how 90’s, how strobed

bed-deep disappointments,

another yet another, backdoor

habitual, another blaze then

blazes out, oh that lucky dip

of backwards, falling ill-trousered

semen countless autographs,

namelessness and what slides

broken, continual aftermaths,

loneliness thru out untalented

limbs thru thickets of slurp and mouths

steeples, spires, towers

hypodermics retreat the

far off horizons, grasps are

scratching for alternative exits,

a&e caterwauls plentiful

the mind dance shaped,

arms-mid-wailing, myself

not like myself likely to be

someone perhaps liked

against the wall of graffiti and

sweat, against the blood bleats

postural rhythm, in that

moment quite happily losing

becoming the jibe’s victim

age is expiring when earlier

it was inspiring, older maggot

in a coat still knows the moves

but strangles awkward

here in the soaked mirror

of regret, fretful as seeing

rearwards fade as quick

as it was made

my mauve drink anti-

waking, blue in the

shape of being held at

the bottom of a glass

where all there wrecks

are supposed

where is happening?

thrived and gone, gone

and done, “then” is shouting

goodbye, such dead disco’s

what is left to reuse? has

pointlessness begun its

dire city? of faces

there are few that are connected

mostly consumed,

here’s to palest deletion