Tuesday, 22 July 2014

Laced


confused everyone wants to be blond they think things will happen easily but all I feel is nausea when I see this year’s fluorescents sweat comes and my clothes feel like a living thing should that not have happened the sound of mental failings argue with music please music will be provided and poured over ice
 
one moon stares at four clouds that night sleep was my friend travelling home in time for mad storm cycles I touched the sea don’t move the sky parted like sheet metal doors crashed flashing violet and silver gashes was that a dream
 
he’d been wrapped in heavy duty tape standing for most of the operation just a parting for his breath to give and take encased they lifted him onto a bench and bound his feet so only the toes could move there was another on a parallel bench hospital height nothing can be done how long were they behind the curtain no one knew
 
human bats fettered made the backdrop laced into latex only one shade exists the tone altered slightly it’s surprizing how much torn lace weighs and my symmetrical metal worked in opposition surely heat by now ice is wrong if I melt before we’re issued with boiler suits 100% concealing and one way glass over the face
 
Livonia has a reservation her false face drops into her hands after the wires were cut no blood just a power fizz as the machine burnt out strange how shattered mirror smells like burning skin
 
all I can hear are the foot prints of a very small rodent only recognised later when I see them and the hands that stopped as we arrived moving again if we leave I saw you there yeah you exist violently tearing out the pages wanting everything to end
 
there’s laughter outside and a year’s worth of rain fell in one drop you should have been more careful with your emotions die now I think he said thank-you and let me stand touch close unusually docile for a place like that where eyes are long and crack from over looking at something you wish made sense
 
a technician came with shears I expect to see a corpse open but two live men skins patterned for war rose from the table the closest I’ve ever seen to man flying the human bats waver moaning clear with veins live forever a lost time piece breaks under my foot I collect the pieces and post them to my birth place
 
lightning was trapped in the drink I left alone for a moment I had the feeling of my lips and tongue being stitched as I drank the liquid darkening clouds remained in the glass friction will occur sub-aqua everything can be explained now devices are invented to record and translate down until we understand even my face in the mirror can’t be trusted
 
plaster of paris heats as it hardens mustn’t inhale eternal visions of that strain of fern who grew from rocks born before day and night passed so quickly there were orchids changing
 
strapped in so the lower limbs have to rest and fat was used for survival all that remains is ivory cyanide cubes are handed round and shrouded forms take that other poison the one that bleeds through the skin for better effect
 
cancers swarm senseless into flames spitting victory I’ve waited a long time who’s the master here
 

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