Just, get it out...

I only have to take three paces
on to the pavements
before I miss Mozart's leading soprano.
I get knotted up when I realise
that out here there is nothing
that needs to be sat waiting.
It's all car stereos
and plastic hard-men
trying to accomplish a stare down
whilst forgetting life.

I've lost all feeling
in my little finger,
but we can't talk about that.
My boots are covered in mud
are as most of my clothes.
Ha! A good friend said
'when it gets like this
you have to laugh...
if you can't
you'll hit the bottom of the shower
covered in red
wishing you hadn't dismembered
your loved one's razor.'

But, let's not head towards that.
There is Hesse and Goercki,
the bruises on my head remind me too.
Now is the time to create beauty
as the reality steams like a shit
left under your foot.
Now is the time to call the black cunt
a black cunt
and then denounce racism
as you politely explain
'Well, you're making me suffer
because of your own lack of compassion
and it just so happens that you're
the colour of my knuckles
once I've had a go.

There is no racism,
not when a collection
of anger merchants
are selling it to me pretty cheap
in exchange for my patience.

Anyhow, this is 2012
and if you step on my toe
my steel bat
is going right around
your unthinking
fucking
head.