Brittle Damnation

Red cherry

Red ass

Laughter and temples

Daughters of the sky

past the hour of love

past the naked domes

stoic kittens shot to silence by good-will and automation

the king of hearts still makes merry

pink frogs laugh out loud.

Dance with me, nice little fuckers

Dance with me

it’s all going away

And i can smell the earth rotting

And i can smell the sun burning

And all the leaves are curling up

And it’s all going away

Like a dog

Like a delightful summer song

Like death by some blasted waterfall.

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Bullfight

Bull fight fight

Mad bull

Fight

Mad fight fight bull

This be the arena

Raw furore

Red eyes

Red blood

Fumes from nostrils

Panting. rage,

The audacity absolute decimation

Poeting downfall of gods

Poeting all brutality and madness

Man fucking bull

Bull fucking man

Asshole tears up

All in the arena

You. Me, down and out

Too weary to contemplate escape

And the raging raving bastards out there

Hooting for a good fight

Rooting for victory or defeat

Pumping hatred from the depths

Will tear you up, tear me up

if you-me attempt escape.

..................................................................................

This mind in iron chains

This mind in boulevards

All in a haunted place

Ghosts point and laugh

Coz mind’s in chains

And boulevards

And sunlight with sharp edges

And moonlight with bitter honey

Aim straight at the heart of mind

And days and nights in lined up

Agony and linoleum

All fall down

The body of this mind

Browbeaten

Till it’s a gooey mass

of flesh blood balls guts and irony.

...............................................................................................

Shooting arrows at breasts of blackbird flying straight to surrender

Ripe soft cherry gulp heart down in beat monotone

Cows moo

The sky is blue

Again and again

That nasty train

Here i am: wholesome, turgid, uncompromising

And there the blackbirds are, flying away from one misery to another

Sorted people, fixed people move

from event to event, job to job, women to women, death to death

and tides ripple in merry May

like aging whores taking medication for flatulence

like this savage city of flat-tires and flat-beers

there’s something waiting something bad mad

something calmly gruesome

the hemlocks and hammocks and ants and flyovers and ovaries and butterflies and soldiers of the world will go on till they stop going on and then there’s nothing more to this

and there’s nothing left to live for

blackbirds shot dead dying floating on lakes on rivers flesh bitten off by fishes blackbirds don’t mind being dead though thy mind dying.

This, from a deathbound voyage

I see you

You see me.

Nothing more   

Nothing less.

guess god meant it all to be like this.

...........................................................................

Long ago there was a demon called kindness and a mole called love

I don’t know what has happened to them

Last i saw them, they were fighting

And both were losing

And the great big army of the enemy that swarmed down streets of blood

Were way too busy fucking little virgins with smooth backs and slender arms

To care about their fate.

.........................................................................................................

You are not good to me

I am not good to you

People are not good to each other

We beat

We are beaten

We shoot

We get shot

And this goes on till the great big loneliness that rolls down like avalanche

presses us flat against the roads.

Chained to boulders from hell

Whipped like hounds of blood

Gutted like colossal pigs stuck in muck

We stay. We lack the choice to choose. We were sold

even before we knew it.     

...............................................................................................................

  

This sorrow is so great that there’s hardly a way to describe it. Objectivity be damned. Damnation be damned. I love you.

.....................................................................................................................

Music from Spanish bordellos

Schoolgirls raped in broad daylight

Proscenium razed by flying bombers

Inside the palace there’s a secret staircase that leads to a playground where fresh children play and wrinkled sex-freaks stare at them and smack their yellow lips with their sweaty brownish tongues ready to lick little droplets of blood and puss off the tiny scratched pimples of children in tears.

The doors of this palace are locked. Priests loom large with stilettos.

Thieves and doctors discuss iodine and God

Poets hump barber’s wives. Politicians smell own armpits.

And then of course there’s this bunch of sorted out people with ready smiles and little distress

Playing cards, buying cars and women, cowering at the idea of lunacy, poverty, solitude, defeats, Revolutions, thunderstorms, whatever. This demographics is here to stay. Conceptions gather moss. concepts sink in own void. Mind and body decays, and the idea of being here

withers away.  

..........................................................................................................

Bust life bust shit bust candyflames

It’s still not raining here.

Bust like a bullet in the ass

Bust like woebetide pamphleteers

Crawling through wilderness of the city

Spitting at death-smeared faces of lives

There’s a pretty girl

Go to her

Lift her skirt up

Unzip your flyer

Heave hip forthright

To know

That it’s a mannequin without pussy

The understated understanding

Of desolation,

Misery

And overwhelmed silence

Is too bland for a second glance

Hence

All that bust

And the doom

And me here

Smashed

Brutal

Brutalised

Free within doom

Waving beer bottles

Stumbling from room to room

Of this great dark castle upcliff

storm rages outside

seas with Fury on waves

flinging hair out at skies

lashing out at the trap of pointlessness

bells tolling

me here

bridges, burnt.

Rubicon, crossed.

...................................................................................................