Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Striding through a September squall,
navigating the warm enclosure of a shut unit concept.
the quack’s question reiterates a strain -
how do you know when your condition has worsened?
Her hawk-eyed glare spears my half-starved humanity,
i fidget like a malnourished mouse.
Lately, the unknown junkies signal to me as we pass –
masons, brothers in pin cushion arms -
as if we have shared a needle or two;
maybe we have I can’t remember.
Anorexia is not funny -
the hawk informs depraved wastage
of the famished perversity.
the hilarity of hawks, out-loud laughing.
people stare, I glare a hunger in kind -
fucking no-marks, non-entity plebeians...
...fucking food shopping.
fear my bastard beard;
the suck holes of my unfed eyes.
I would eat them all.
filthy bastard pigs – cannibalism makes me sick.
trucking with temper, malnourished juggernaut,
chemically imbalanced God-man in hysterics.
Fear my bastard beard;
a downed racing pigeon,
weather casualty obstruction,
yellow ring, pink leg, black numbers,
bar code bird in disorientations, busy road in inches.
Quivering dullard bird brain palpitations.
Quickening my depression with vulnerable hauntings,
dishevelled creature - uninspired and weak.
I fetishize a counter act; fear mechanics,
a violent urgent rebuke surges -
open beak on curb -
Yes, yes, yes
prospective mess, road block averts cruel deed,
moral ramifications null and void,
sickening awareness of mortality pecks
at my skinny mouse gut, the Hawk laughs.
I hate birds.
Lengthen stride, must burn calories
lose the mind in autistic reveries,
propel the euphoric rhythm
of my habitual pattern.
plan poetry or puke,
sea front waves spray salty kisses, piss in my face.
I capitulate in coordination with the random event.
Autumn abandons the rusting huts.
kids move in, teens canoodle – touching tongues.
two Mademoiselles ___ if a day.
Is it -?
their innocent intensity,
their intimacy, the romance,
their girlish figures, or common decency or
the fact that my libido is flushed in ruination.
All of the above in confusion.
guilt prevents any lascivious schemes?
I slipstream their reckless smell,
more spray pecking heady exciting pits.
North Sea gull jockey rides white horse half pipes.
She clasps my eyeing, she giggles.
I smile an elation, emotion swoon rising,
split second complicity whirls
gay abandon, youth, love.
purity, forgotten virtue, giggling.
fearing my bastard beard - insulting hairs.
rapture rapidly falls, traversing hemispheres
hate crime fantasy pictures flicker.
Missing in a grey maze of uncertainty.
where have all the black and white lines gone?
the spray is filthy, liquid waste,
cross channel ferry shit floats dead seamen buoys.
Mocking birds; fury impels.
I pitch a pivot hoping the pigeon
remains downed, fronting avian homicide.
I can always induce vomiting -
survival of the thinnest.
Reality fog and delusions.
with thanks to my midwife Julie Watkins.