An Amorous Discourse in the Suburbs of Hell

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Afterwards.

Forgive me.

Courage not there.

Sucked by wear and tear

Of 9 to 5 & blocked drains

Eyes are closing.

‌

she

die die die of safety

your failing pension plan

a shroud of blind snails

searching for the last green leaf in eden

‌

He

You are beginning to bore me

Bile and gloom tucked

Tight into your incandescent

Cleavage. I would

Rather watch

T.V.

‌

she

it’s true i have these moods.

i might just

fall

into

despair

and singe the carpet

with the heat of my wings

and then

how

will you

console

me?

i wander around your suburbs in a haze

you fit so well into the seats

of england’s expensive trains

i find that when those passengers

who work in financial services

gaze at the back of my head

my garments cease to glisten with light

all my languages desert me

the vibrations of the universe

freeze in the knuckle of my sixth finger

today i will dive under the high-res screen of your smart phone

float in the galaxy of samsung

swim through blue tooth and back to ask you

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