Just another nothing

I sit in the heat
weighing up
the pros and cons
of a sober day
versus the comfort
of many cold beers
I wonder what the day will
throw my way
I wonder what became
of all those day's
I left behind
and will I ever
actually know
anything
real

Trawling

A woman
being fucked
by a Labrador
a car salesmans
smile
meth dealing cops
and
high flying lawyers
a man sucks
on a horses cock

There's a party downtown
and we are
all invited

With the hope of a cup of tea

On this scorching concrete
bare feet step tentatively
white collar eyes hide behind
black sunglasses barely masking amusement
one view that chokes
and air licks skin

If we could remember being born
would we fear death?

awake from dreams
a party gone wrong
the loose crayfish runs around
in the strangers that have come
there is bedlam and no one can hear

If we could remember being born
would we fear death?

Inhaling the cloud
and
one, two, three
here we go now
maybe a preview of the other side
the sky opens up

If we could remember being born
would we fear death?

Eyes that don't see
ears that don't hear
a heart that feels only pain
a pain that only knows fear
fear that is afraid
shake, rub, swallow spit

begin again
again
again..

If we could remember death..
Would we fear love?

While walking through seeds the size of Acorns on a muggy Perth day.

There's being a kid
while another kid pisses
on you
and another kid laughs
and the ensueing
rugby tackle style
bear hug
as mother turns off the hoover
in response to the unexpected cries
coming from somewhere like nowhere
in murky wet heat
There's standing on one side
of a boat
while the others stand opposite
and witnessing
prehistoric phenomenom
existing
outside of OUR proof
there are few who belive
and that's okay
There's ejaculating
twisted erotica
from a static space
and electric lust
while fucking
a big loud bitch
boyfriend asleep in next room
There's developing
metallic tounge
and setting off a freinds car alarm
as it
kicks in Big Time
There's quiet moments
spent listening to rain
and savouring
every drop
And then
there's now
with the milk fridge to my right
a kid playing outside
and the sound of tape
being ripped off cardboard

what becomes

Sat in the kitchen

the fluorescent light
is between a hum
a buzz
and a drone

I can hear the freeway

If I fall back asleep now
I will wake up
old and empty
with a pen and tv guide
I will have

forgotten

Yes I like it here in the kitchen
right now
I like the walk to the petrol station
under the bridge
a cool winter night
I like the pint-size cans
of cheap lager
that I consume
with such vigour

I like the sounds

I like it here in the kitchen
right now

I can hear the freeway
and choose to wonder
or not

what may be..

( .......................................... )

Thoughts
and the pursuit
of escape
and
exploration
interchanged
can prove
a drain..

with..
glimpses,, of promise

(the fridge buzzes)

Her!
and.. her wily
ways
and him
and them
the catastrophe of company
eclipsed
by (the) fear
of loneliness....

seeps


(the fridge still BUZZES..)


Thoughts - and
the taste
of another
... drag
another
... sip

Another mighty Giant

promises
that needn't
be made
by their nature
they exist
- - Already


Time and
time
Again

expect nothing


And be pleased . . .
.....
.......
.........
.............
.....................
..................
............
....
.......
..........

The Corner

I am
Sat in the
same bar I
sat in three years
ago - only it's
not the same bar
only - the same
location
Nothing stay's the same
and I like to think
I find it sad
in this case
Although the stranglers
don't make it easy
I hear chatter
I exhale
And I finish
listening to the song.
It..
is like breaking surf
and
changing seasons
constellations
glowing on
the ceiling
of a childs room
while a monster
breathes
in the closet
like
a soft kiss
that
wasn't intended
to affect you
like
warm beer
as a savior
and beans
out the tin
while you sit
on a crate
and
the night forgets
you exist
It grows
and
it swells
and
It changes..