22 Nov 2018

Too good, too sober too clean

The grey hairs in my amateur beard
Have finally outnumbered the black
It looks a complete mess
Not one thing or the
Other (I will shave it off tonight)

But thank god for these aches and pains
And lack of remaining melanin
Thank the deviant pagan gods
For 48 hour hangovers
For stigmatism and a delicate stomach

Because I look around me now
At the young people
Of which I am no longer one
And this I only recently acknowledged with any grace

They are turned on not
In the traditional sense
Tuned in not
In the classical manner

And my god do they all lack character
What has happened to our last hope  
When they all know
Exactly what line to follow
What job to get
How to get it
Exactly their direction home
What to wear how to eat
Who not to fuck

Adorned in the correct clothes
As though they fell out of their mothers like that
Blinkers on to any dangerous asides

How do you ever reach functioning adulthood
Without first joyfully running the gauntlet
Of a semi-professional degenerate?

13 Nov 2018


Cutting through a bagel, I recalled the girl stood next to me
At the checkout earlier that day and slipped with the knife

Straight down rather than a slice
A solid full-blade thunk into the palm of my hand

The metal didn’t hurt but embedded its smooth edge
Deep into the flesh stopping on the bone

She had purple eye shadow that intentionally matched
Her purple leather satchel bag

I found this for some reason unsettling
Even more so than her sideways resemblance to Isabella Rossellini

I stare at people too long, I thought. But what else is there to do?

I leaned my weight on the handle seeing how far I could get the knife
Until the pain started, but it went all the way through

I was just stood there dripping blood - half a hand on the counter
As people came in to make their grey coffee and dead sandwiches

They didn’t seem to notice. Or if they did
Nobody said a god damn thing about it to

30 Aug 2018

All that happened today

The end of summer smells exactly like the

I have a nose for these things
Always have

A chemical released by
Those of us inclined to anxiety
Synthesising with incoming molecules

Creates a perfume that indicates
Autumns arrival

This event
Along with my brutal killing of a moth
Is all that has happened today.