a blog about my music, writings and art
I had dilated lines
and they make short defence of you
because they’re only tasting mine
and the mud was in the paddock with you.
The maid laid the barrel they’re in.
Need coffee now to loosen their tongue.
It’s a man with his feeling hands.
Pretending everything he says is so dumb.
Embalm my lazy leg for me
and watch how the children will sway.
Cut my founders out some/their meat
Somebody braided their tongues.
Into caterpillar once was fed.
The only free thinker in the village
is the one everyone calls ‘the idiot’.
Motors at the ready. They deplete.
Cameras at the helm, and they’ll rot.
The power houses horses have been fed.
The cameramen have all been shot.
It buried in the hand.
The leg was rash.
The neighbours maid was laid before me
There was marrow in his hands.
The man was laid.
The day before me.
I had no plans that day, so.
We had marrow in balance.
It made me do no revision.
The man. This hands.
Television for me.
I see lance.
It’s almost a morning song.
Unknewn to youth.
I made their plans.
It’s a battle for their plans.