Your pathetic Odyssey is painful ended
Standing like a dick on the stairs
In all the dysentery of piled-up life
Ankle deep. Fuck you Malkam Khan
I’ll say what I want about
Consistent Unblinking Death:
It found you with its crunched-up
lottery feelers, Did it not?
It found you sitting on
Infusion stacked pamphlets
With YOURNAME all over them.
It’ll find me sitting in OX1
Or TN13 or I don’t know where
Running my own slicksetsheen fingers
Through aggravated hair, raging
At the hope of a song to sing.
Muse, I want a song.
Ben you have to finish yours
It is crying out for flesh
It is a beautiful abandoned child
It is a true thing
I saw a skinhead being pulled off a bus
I saw a girl in a café with skin all over her
I saw George Harrison recast, with better lyrics
I saw the drunk revelation of bended time
I saw the girlless poems of my firsttime youth
I saw blind feeling never made anything
I saw a nose picking prophet with ingrown toenails
Muse, I need a song
Ben you have to lend me yours
It is fresh cut paper in four chords
It is expression infinite and then narrowed
It is a true thing
I can’t even say what it is
Still barefoot temple-tapping on the stairs
Some imitation of a beat dance
Some insult to Primo Levi and
All the regret in the memory of God.
That, for this?
Contributors
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allchangeplease
allchangeplease is young poet who can be found in divers cracks of the big Earth (mySpace). it writes songalongs too, and is a wizard with Microsoft Paint. it writes its poems with fridge magnets and random number generators. |
