Sunday, 24 February 2013

Diaries

 
In one diary I wrote
seriously something I didn't do


and isn't it weird
how skin pops
when it's burnt
even bubbles appear
instead of burst


I wrote down
the rejection letter
but not that
just to fill in
another space


I cared mildly


behind one door in every street
sits a genius suicide some


or they shake hands
with a tall American
and make it up
as they go


there was a boy
smashed his guitar
on the cover of the NME
I heard why he's rich
now in IT


and one who does something
humane for chickens
he said I was
the most committed gig goer
he knew
like a temporary blond


how they get grey faced
from sitting not lacking
concentration
for a stretch of undernourishment


fed up with thinking
I'll never write another


again


the buzzer went and
he asked what day it was


a great excuse to
power blink and pretend
I saw
nothing with my eyesight


who'd pop a gun for glory
when we were
spinning Herb Alpert
anyway?



 

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