deepundergroundpoetry.com

Clockhands

He's sprawled, drawing on Gabriel's thighs with a lit cigarette.
Catalysts of war shot to womb impregnating covered, weighty ebony-stars.
Sarkozy-styled suits drenched in a "hardcore"-teenager's four percentage alcoholic consumption
and he wastes time in the shower.

Perched on the empire state building, kicking legs - the nobody's child.
As tail-coated transvestites march against tail-coated bureaucrats to hunch over tables with effortless-breathing fantasy.
Owls wearing cone-heads and silk bras, their intellect hidden in cracked feathers
and she nervously watches.

Standard photographs, ring-marked and photoshopped, for lockets divided between wife and mistress.
Hypnagogic joy in formational lullabies sung in a weight-controlled environment to two-hundred and fifteen pound elderly.
Lucubrating to steak and fork in three-hundred and sixty five hours,
rules to touch and never kiss.

The uxorious man crawls his way to Bristol, humping the ground like a snake or slug.
Goldfish cutting holes in screwdrivers and wires and a man's tie to secure his demise.
Goldfish look too innocent to be held accountable.
It doesn't mean we shouldn't be held accountable.