3am
i'm out of touch
with my dark ambition
haven't danced with
the old ghost in years
and now that it's here
finger-fucking my sanity
i don't know how to
deal with it
i've reached the end of cures
tried it all
in the madness of space
all the poems i've ever written
ain't gonna help
they laugh somewhere
inside my spine
and disappear
my lips tremble
like a sinner biting deep
into a crown of thorns
there's nothing left to do
but close my eyes
& trespass into sleep
empty handed
not even a match
to burn the fucking place down
After Hours
from the tangled threads
of 9:00 to 5:00 boredom
the winter sky stretches
all the stars crazy
like a splatter of eyes
thrown up there
to keep watch
adventures hatching
inside me
infectious
mad dots of words
exploding
I am snare drum
I am Big Bang
I am SUPERNOVA
quivering in the flow
hot in my skin
peeling it back
thrusting out
until I am a lean planet
poised on the lip
of the universe
and the earth’s delicate girlflesh
is tearing in my mouth
inside the box
in the sick light
of fluorescent tubes
i hear the expiring hiss
of everything escaping
words pour
out like
dirty
music
pixels b s
u t
r
there are corpses
inside the box
seeking a way out
through my skull
of all the world’s temptations
/turn me into a moment of reality/
[END]
© 2004 Graham Nunn - Contributor's
Bio
|
