murmur or sing: it makes me feel right
about my wrongdoing nothing to say but
ill be there in the grapes ready to group
with you; no air, no blocky image
like jeffrey smart who, grew up next-to big
w learning prison fashion sense. corruption
stands by preening itself; & are
your eyes real or glass? the saviour
returns in your fiction, i was prepared-to wait
for my last communion at closed down st thomas cathedral:
they sent a rookie; a dr seuss lookalike,
better a guy with mould in his
step & a sludgy-style - people hanging off his every
snort like executed roosters; this country
pays too much attention to strengthening its
back mucles. ooh la la - i used to like
opposites now love them. a chainsaw makes even
sunday morning appear to have virtues, now,
of course, my lifes sawdustless, putting off creditors...
theyre just busting to feel anything of mine for lumps.