Starting easily
Like the dazzle of a shell bursting
For engagement,
A moment visible
But travelling in echo.
Message ready to unleash hell,
At the brain controlling,
A sum alien.
Each sense the miracle of atom and particle
As models tremble,
Modulated but deadly,
As a switch to voices of “incoming”
How friendly
With noise intimate.
With something personal –
A cup to drink from.
That the loving person
Who likes somebody
That likes something
Is perfect.
Intoxicated, a symmetry.
Every word explosive –
The lack of reason
For what we are about to receive
Making us truly thankful.
At nil,
Our understanding.
The lights in the crate not ours,
Everything emptied.
So I began to go beyond going to the limit.
What is today my limit?
Nothing, no music.
Just remains –
The comedy finishing.
Going up the line tonight,
Looking neither left nor right
All contracts filled.
All spots extinguished
By a darkness
That folds around the word “bonus”.
Where Bayswater forms a meadow
And some of the smarter people
Are trapped in wealthier ghetto,
I lie awake in prison.
A peacock in the smarter mezzanine,
With lusty wobble, I exercise daily
To see my sentence double:
A lifer in this grotto.
There are so few words in the dictionary
For sudden death and misery
That inventing a word to remember
Becomes a kind of journey.
This is what I see each time I turn the corner
As I make for the subway.
Licking his lips
Without tank, fuel empty,
Contemplated below
No signal
The new normal –
Instrument and eye combined in symmetry.
A hawk, hunter killer,
Circling,
In his glide wondering,
Like every killer he would be hungry
After killing.
His machine/stomach always empty.
Hunger turned him into missile
Aimed at cities.
Making the new extreme quite normal.
In a single step bound
To April
When the remains are still
A shallow breeze
Lifts the cuckoo
To settle almost now on summer.
As cups full with fresh flavour
Have a sound unmistakable,
Each step is madder now.
The first girl I saw I gave a kiss to. Cuckoo.