you'll rue this day -
i wouldn't piss on myself if i was on fire
or stung by a jellyfish
i'd just grin and bare it like filed down teeth.
saint augustine swept leaves and stole letters from shop signs.
the fringe over dog eyes obscuring its view.
we breed them for weaknesses
that would render them helpless if ever released into the wild.
we're doing to dogs what hitler wanted to do to people...
and you can't even outrun an arrow
like it was deduced a tortoise could.
and your burnt effigy bears the vaguest of resemblences,
a veritable cornucopia no less.
mother says my stomach is shrinking into a knot
that my bitten down fingernails are too blunt to undo.

i am cold storage open myth
a sickly grin measuring eight point six on the rictus scale
mollycoddled by the abhorrant gourd;
a rumbunctious psychotropic.

the acute the astute, the obsolete and obtuse
are all your other options in fickle britain
it's the little things - the pounds look after themselves.
"that's where storm clouds are born"
to wave a rattle at the iron lung babies in pyrex cases
who will spend their entire lives
from birth to dirtbed
in a breathing machine.

i become the black ice on roads
i start a whip-round for myself
because suddenly life wasn't about brick walls
and money and things nebulous
my awareness too pliable
endure yourself parasite universe
pack satchel with loaves and fish
"what a professional."
7-E-1-F-8-0-3:
this description lives untoward an unworldly
and bogged down apprentice.
"shut up with the fireworks"
"it's well contro."
your game genie's lamp is in need of a major polish
run your fingertips across shelves like a figurative mother-in-law
testing and tutting at the depth of your dust.

collapsing infrastructures left right and centre:
"if theres an afterlife i hope you saved me a seat"

i'm wasting time overestimating an underachiever
the defendant something inanimate that moves as it should not
pocketed earthworm repeatedly halved
or a matchboxed miscellanoupede
guile for reasons opaque
the requisite components uprooted obligated and unfettered
as always the important thing to remember
when wearing a proton pack is
NEVER CROSS THE STREAMS
TILL YOU'VE NEARLY REACHED THE END OF THE FILM
it's the burgeoning crop circle of your bald spot lighted.

i have blisters on my sprinkling finger
eating the matter refusing to compound
i'm incinerating every outfit i've ever done anything incriminating
or embarassing in
"just conceptualising here"
a handclap's as good as a fingersnap to a deaf man's ear.
when i was knee high to a... whatever i thought people had adventures not emotions
i never considered that the glands got involved in this hypnolarious! and ridiculous former empire
throwing tea sets into the lavastream
that envelops your distant relative of mud hut.

lulled me into a insincere sense of insecurity
slightly long winded
receded
the hole in my hat.
the beating in your ribcage deflates too close to gnawed bone
i doubt anyone notices those buried up to neck in sand.
i've got to hand it to the blindfolded
i really truly envy you in your mirage niche
cashback swapping football stickers postal orders
this exchange rate is parallel lines in black and white
the barcode battlers are remotely controlled.
to the few gullible enough,
you see the majority is suprisingly not quite stupid enough
to be really influenced by adverts films games and soap operas
you are more like a sitcom
and you need your canned laughter
ha ha ha.

-but if you asked the, uh, "audience" would they nod or shake their heads,
or die of excitement and indecision?
at the fact that someone for once cared about their opinion?

slump foward and sink in
please fill in this survey
the dribble on your pillow
the nasal crumble of your snore
reminds me of scratched non-stick pans
and baking rainbow cake to fill up a rainy day
on which we're forced to
unhappilly acknowledge each other's existence.
so it seems we've accepted the numb frigid
elderly autonomous and backwards defence
a snorkel for shit creek and unneccessary lachrymology.

the accurate the william tells and s.burroughs:
which category do you fit neatly into?
or will we have to bring out the mallet?