pervatrocity

scrambled / faces appear up the crawl of muscled back / logos / idents / more than bodies in a bricked up room / dead tourists / the terror of OWL / twit and wooo throttle the darkness / rotating heads look for new torsos / bag snatchers / glue sniffers / child lovers and the detritus of thought in a secondary surface of being homeless / being apart / a leg / a lung / an arm / separated from the main trunk / from siblings / those twins of automation and pedestrianised peripheries of tarmac / sunsets in tins of paint / colour in the cheeks / rounded / reddened / the disease of boredom treated with a switch / a song of swish thwack squeal / anal-ysis / low slung NHS chairs in place of brown leather couches / in place of discovery as I had imagined it / busts / books / cigars / antique ambiance / she / the trainee psych perched higher / I looked out the window doing my crazy impression / slightly embarrassed / then back / to her crossed thighs / perched higher / in light short summer dress / low slung eyes gliding porcelain / never again did this debutante of the mind administer such sweet medication....

waking blooming

waking in my shoes / blooming like a ribcage in a morgue / a betrayal / a serpent / a soft nihilism that talks angrily to itself / hopeless addiction hides a great anger at the shell that hides it / bloated / corpulent / fat for fucks sake / round and with children / functionworthies the idle workers for the soporific image / hate / uselessness / hate / oh she won an oscar I shall suck on the marrow from her bones / frail broken bones / ejaculation sounds wear suits / she calling for him / she breaking him down / comes across his brain with red nails / scratching / scoring her name into frontal lobes / delicate....

vega

a ninja and a French Queen / an underpopulated insurgency server crashes into the clean night / dirty linen and a trainee of IED's / quite substantial vodka does the trick on an open ended bender / deific corpses sport the latest reprises and holler / i'm in a clean gaze / i'm in an eyeball looking over and holding onto a balcony of lashes / i'm in clean clothes a trainee of incidental ephemeral devices / erecting knackered orbits in a dutch sim / balloons dream of parties but connect mournfully to bladders / the liver pains me / just the thought of it dieing before me / shot by goya's 37.5% firing squad / crawl along the frenchmans backs hiding from the glare / caught out / ....

synthetic hope

Aches, pains, glands buzzing, dull it out with alcohol, digital fluff glides up past my window, some dopplegram fading out, message received, collected by building antenna, beamed invisibly out into space to be bounced through bodies, the consumertariat, inklings, desires, product, synthetic hope…

Bad tooth, rotted breath, black, brown, a smiling dog,…

Pet fantasy, corridors lit with rectangles of sunlight, diffuse now through the sky-verts, up looking, overlooking glasses cumshots drone, bloated lips, power drill tongue, sweat on pneumatic stomachs, white teeth in false breast electronic bubbles, spray painted tumble weed thrown into shot, automatic mouth floats over the cityscape, the segment of life through my window, the explosive population threatening my paper bag head, vinyl salespeople, mutant magnetic tape played across stuffed ears, my goodbye shot down butterfly flaps against a momentary break in the verts, a rare silhouette of buildings against a skyline, paisley noise on piled up screens, scenes, diplomatic objectivity, the fluxing skin lights up again, bleached and rinsed into pink needle romances, a ceramic blood spatter effect, science and hair, trivialities of worry, my breath fills the sails of sentimental scene… a pampered razor with its own make-up crew slides upon the face, the throat of the Man, the Woman smiles over his shoulder…

bomb

Bomb:

1. Touching, regally feeling for a known, seeking qualification, to be legitimised, bomb spitting, searing soft faced furnishings, coverings dropping molten, numbed hands raised to shield face, blackened.
2. >> I told you I’d rip, didn’t I say so conformist fuck!? Grey! Sweet surface cunt, wrapper plastic, didn’t I tell you? <<
3. The anal eye tatters in her butchered face, nail-bomb punctuates, and what shit she spoke. Poured out, effluvial like, stank like it does, always does from the mouths of petit-b filth.
4. Soldiers of God, blind. Unfinished business, a devout emptiness.
5. A devout emptiness, and hollowed stomach empty, all shat out, struggling to shit even with encouragement, and so, therefore, struggling to live. Brain null, mind separates, there is a glassy vista outside of face, intangible?
6. Tiredness arrives, either from sleeping too long or from waking too soon, tiredness comes, it comes and with hope gone is unrelenting. Separates, peels slowly away from the life product, crushed then dropped.
7. All fucking torn, ripped up ragged and flapping, loose, slapping, >> Oh yeah here comes the cunt! Character! we can flesh him out. << A fat-knot lie so white, curious in the meat, squeezes and examines, tween forefinger and thumb.
8. Bomb.

mirtazipine

Some distance away a hedgehog was reading pornography under a hedgerow, Lloyd was unaware of this. And so he awoke, the vapour of the night’s cheap Chardonnay rung dully in his head and clung like a polite whore. He gathered himself and swung his legs out from beneath the Red Army Faction duvet cover, straightening his Irish National Liberation Army jim-jams as he did so. And so our Zero sat replete on the edge of his bed at the edge of his bedsit, a single small room, kitchen, living room and bedchamber, the bathroom was on the lower 2nd floor and was shared by all four tenants of the building. Lloyd got to his feet and walked to the one window, it was just a window overlooking the overgrown communal garden and brick red alley, I won’t describe the bespattered birdshit upon it, it, it was just a window. Lloyd stared and stared, stared at a dog.

Ragged ridiculous pantomime dog. Salacious Mongrel. Distant, vague, prowling alley of terraced red brick. A languid blur, scratching, mauling detritus in the near light of morning. Salacious with enervated movements ambles to a foreground, its peeling epidermal of papier-mâché becomes apparent, a collaged skinscape of diseased and dissolving copy, scabrous jaw slackly hanging, saliva stringing to ground, viscous beads… drip. Movement within mouth. Mandible set with articulated forms. Writhing maggot teeth. Squirming larvae embedded in pulpy soft gumflesh, turn in unison to scorn the one carious enamel dolmen, CGI operators lazy realist simulacrum. Rustling. Head hunched. Salacious slavering at mouth of upturned wheelie bin, slack paper clad jaw mouthing grey plastic edges, autonomous larval dentates testing, pressing, searching attrited scared plastic. Charlie’s Angels wrap, warp upon filthy edge, silhouette, sign raped in ocular juices. Tentatively Salacious enters, crossing gaping mouth of bin, waddles forward, jaw slack and agape. Breathing rasps. Expulsion rhythmic. Putrid vapour beading upon dirt encrusted inner surface. The Mongrel turns, and outside, seen through a squared smear of light, a figure stoops, slips in shit.

Lloyd walking. He do it often. Walking. Walking clothed in self-loathing, jeans and a dark blue track suit top, zip bust, hunched up, hands in diagonal slits of top, hunched up, a kind of foetal walking. He do it often. Eyes hook on a visual glitch, something scraping in upturned bin. Stoops, not far now, to look, and at that same moment slips upon dog faeces. What he had stooped to see thrown from mind, displaced, scraped from sole, smeared, spread like peanut butter on tarmac. Stench. Nostril flare. Nose corrugating, ruckles , creases, dissolves on relaxing face, fluvial flesh flowing back to eddy gently about the bone.

Lloyd walking. A receding scrape. Heading for the park, not knowing where to put eyes, almost crying as singular figures approach, working out the glances, when to put eyes down or up. Easier in crowds more distractions, more voices, too many to sift through, have to go blank, go auto and ignore the focus of one to one. He walked up Mastacon Rd towards Murrain Street and the park. A long road lined with cars, always lined with cars at all times of the day due to the generosity of parents and their poverty stricken students who attend the nearby Naipette University. Lloyd headed onwards up the road, checking himself in the reflections of car windows, the flat, square near vertical windows of Volvo estates being the best for a clean hyper-real surface, a snapshot of confidence.