From the Kissed

existing within the nerves of his barbed mouth
time surrendered to his hallucinogenic ideals
and his drenched aphrodisiacs wove secrets
into silvery flicks of light hearted judgement
pushing the slivers of my remaining soul into a slit
of hoarse vapour, that knew nothing of preservation
counting the strings of glassed revelations that emerged
from his chest, his tongue spoke to the walls of lucidity
and I, brushed against the bones of his wistful longing
lingering inside the constancy of his crimson stained lips.



masks are inked and seared
with cold blooded disguise
and packed tightly into boxes
linear with neglect

decorative glitter weaves value
into expressive cryptic swirls
of questions jaded indigo
with angst and misery and fear

juvenile patience flattens
its elegant stitching
and wears down its rouses
with coppered rust

lightening shaped cracks,
beeped and glitched,
craving negligent shaped patches
to heal their exposure

masquerading outlines of disorder
with creased smoke
to fleck misery and drain scars
into tailored a serenade

intoxicating concealment
and leaking emerald shine
so the wearer could never leave
a honeycombed trace

but the correlations of the world
amplified face shaped splendour
into moulds of ordinary skin,
that knotted synthetic faces into frowns.


Rainbow Ejections

rusty amber springs emerge disguised
through layers of feathery seating
coiling energy into spirals of static
they pull greedily on beating veins,
needing and wanting;
instead, they weave
chaotically through gravity
jumping through tightened stitches,
brushing against immortality
and against needles of metallic adrenaline;
to vibrantly eject souls
into the disintegrating


Newspaper Abortions

the chandelier was carved from the bones
of insane poets and stained with their inked
preoccupations, and the lightbulbs were black

and the music was in italics, it could breathe
black-orbed squints from within its notes,
and the vibrations washed away, with the gravity

of checkered narcotics and disciplined razors
cutting through addiction, cutting through pain,
and through the thick skin of selfish interference

to gut, laced value from its beating abdomen
and eat its disaster; to devour all its purpose
and set it alight for the newsstands, to tell

and enlighten the earless world with the power
and glory of victory and triumph! but the world
sulks, into their cappuccinos wishing for lighter nights

and darker days to aid their spirals of manias
headfirst, straight through ivory trapdoors, to hide
from the world that pushed, because wanting

to kill with metal coat hangers was immoral
but they dug and pulled and twitched and
screamed, bathing in sinless blood; it rained

emerald ribbons, and the birds dived and spun
synchronising the beautiful pain of the world
into the bows that held all our strobed static in place.


Halfway Dead

skeletal drumsticks beat layers of silver voltage
onto silent stretches of elastic skin; once, twice,
calling to the golden swans to take their victims
to be burned under a flaming expanse of ice water
where they would ignite into contradictory tempos
and epileptic rhythms, upward, in ripples of bubbles,
and at the bottom of the sea, their souls would live
sheltered lives of indigo, and they would have children
that had gills and an invisible beam to mark the world
with the cryptic symbols of their minds, but for now
they would remain hooked dryly to the sanded motors
of the luminous sea, almost alive but halfway dead.


The Magician

machines tube lines of fractured glass through the bones of a magician
satiety inflates his displaced conscious into the jaws of a psychic void,
which destroys; he breathes soul shaped enigmas out through his eyes

humming molten metallic regret, the machines cage their fearful limbs
they watch passively as their creators combust into shards of insanity
flashing strings of scarlet guilt, they bubble and dissolve, unmaintained

standing, the magician crawls through liquid concrete, hunting for gold
he ignores the vertical huffs of smoke trickling out from his machines
instead he sieves through rock; but he falls, into an abyss, to emerge sinless

the magician watches the overcast sky birth blind Ravens onto tilted treetops
they fall to the earth and peck at the flesh of molested women; sipping blood
they eat their glassy eyeballs, instead choking on wands of indiscrete magicians

the magician sits inside a square balloon and reels films of the future
watching around cigarette burns, he vacantly folds his form into a reel
the film plays its secrets to the vacant walls; reality flickers, and burns.