Faulty Wiring

Perhaps

we are nothing more
than a machine
created as a bizarre
and cruel
experiment or worse
as a sick form of entertainment
like those robot battles you see
on obscure TV channels
late at night
in a lonely motel with
an untouched bible in your hand
and a mind filled with escape plans
because your cold
hardened
heart
is no longer receiving updates
and
the virus
has taken

over.

Advertisements

This Candied Cigarette

I clasp scalding amber tea
in a soggy takeaway cup
This candid conversation
holding me captive
His observations
made bold and rancid

Breathing candyfloss smoke
beneath a gobstopper domed sky
Yellow gumballs of light
spill across the lawn

A car’s smiling headlights,
windscreen wipers bent
in worship to me
Passing people in miniature
like statues on a cake
Strobe light leaves
catch my restless eyes
Parakeet fluorescent flashes
a harsh, repetitive trance

Spun sugar threads turn
to sticky cobweb tendrils, catching
tiny vessels in my lungs
A tree trunk stripped
to it’s rotting core, scarlet
sap oozing through opened scars
My attempts to capture the rainbow, futile
clinging as color spins and dissolves

It’s just a grayscale static image
Cold dregs are all that remain

Repel the Rooster

I seek out space
for my expanding skull.
Give me rest
for this body heavy
poisoned like lead.

Cock your head
as I stretch
this broken wing.

Cover your ears
as I strangled sing
a song of sorrow.
A pathetic mating
call you will never hear.

Your pity stains
my sleeves like
spilt tea, a waste
upon a wasteland.

My touch like death
you drop my hand
in sweet abandon.