A cup

How about a sip from my cup boy,
A simple little thing
You need not think that I am trying to real you in.

Its made from the peel of an orange and a little courage,
Not a thing you need worry about, I have no doubt
Drink it up, see its just like stout

Just a sip, thats all it takes, for the thing to have its grasp
You can’t give it a name, but it owns your soul
Give into its lure, line, hook, and in the cold
It will warm you up
Keep you high
then send you down to sigh
and start singing the simple line

How about a sip from my cup boy,
A simple little thing
You need not think that I am trying to real you in.

Sin upon sin
from within you mind
comes this desire for you to get higher
drink a little more from my cup
and you will know more about yourself than anyone could ever like

just a sip thats all it takes

will you break, will you shatter
against all the odds, will you not matter?
you try and fight it, but you soon find that another sip is all you need
you can’t deny it
just try it!

and your gone, never to be found, down into the ground
it in you now, and you can’t let it go
one thing alone can set you free, and I doubt you can pay the fee…

Milk hogs

”40” posted the hog, his snout elongated and sniffly

Nursing a cold like a new witch nurse’s a baby familiar

He looked at his accounting books from the milk crate factory

Beeswax slipped slowly down the morning milkshake

Shining yellow wattle light upon the poster on the wall

His old friend’s monkey and fox, and him, and the band they used to play in

Monkey had what? Gone to be a chef at that restaurant, in where? the London grotto?

Fox was Vixen now and made silk scarves and could she still forge the fakes?

Back to it, working, in the old accounting books, no cooking these he thought, taking a sip and trying not to sneeze

Clean now. Could the band still play? After all we were called

Crime’6 D0 Pa7

that was it! 60. The hog typed the answer into the log and decided to take a break.

He would give the old band a call, as soon as this cold passed.

Sniffling and wiping the last of the shake off his bristles, it was snowing again and time to go

Gen Tar Fried

Boiling hissing floating sickly

Made collision tongues simple

Them through flick enimies

Class sections airs become

For its all a war

Car park replication sit

unproductive upper filters eat

Thing Moment past farts

Waits potential apes died

Boiling made them class

Hissing collision through sections

Floating tongues flick airs

Sickly simple enemies become

For it’s all for war

Car unprotective thing waits

Park upper moment potential

Replication filters past apes

Sit eat farts died

Tailbone soup

Down on the dark soiled plains

Grassy plateau frosted with marshmallow flowers

An occasional Bittary tree, glowing under the deep full moons

The giant planet would rise soon

Blue, dark in places, white clouds streaming across is

It was a sight that never grew old

It would rise every Friday, not setting for a whole week

Are they even Friday’s here?

Scuttled under the Bittery tree, I would wait until sunrise to move again

The flock of red, cow like animals that I pretended to look after would sit nearby. Most of them heavily pregnant

Then at midnight, or whatever it was here… a noise

I woke from the daze like meditation I had entered to see a pack of cat like beasts in the long grass creeping up on the flock

I had to alarm, squeaking in a noise that would wake even the heaviest of the sleeping dead

Run

Run

Run

To escape

Allowing the thoughts

I’m allowed to feel bad

It’s a personal thing

Not to block out that thing that was mean

Parking it isn’t the theme

We gain more life from letting it seed

Grow from my sadness

Grow from my pain

Grow in the garden

Enigmas grow again

I’m allowed to feel bad

It’s a personal thing

Not to block out that thing that was mean

Parking it isn’t the theme

We gain more life from letting it seed

Grow from my sadness

Grow from my pain

Grow in the garden

Enigmas grow now again

Just you say, I’m sorry darkly

There’s a cat sitting on the asking to see you

To say mice have taken over the parliament of owls

The shallow black waters running in the creeks and valleys, so nothing can be drunk.

and I have a home that I have a hawk down into the grass

I heard from the frogs you had a quickie at the gym

thinking is I think he wouldn’t stay here with the others

Berries won’t come in the droughts that have harmed us

Blood has spilled as the carnivores have even starved

Yet all the mice have done, all the mice has won is a deadly fight for life

Just you say, I’m sorry Darkly.

Succulent succumbs individuality for universally 

A painful hat, fedora sat on subordinates 

Greasy success, with hazardous guessing inordinate 

Juggling poodles, surgery of noodles in a cave 

I’m a succulent succumbing, individuality for universally 

Align the moon angels, on heat 

Summoning ringside seats, singing plumbers who have fatburgs 

Dying city, with none to morn her 

Gallah pasta salad, for me. What will you have?

Hammersmith, chapter twelve.

To describe what exactly this feeling was would be to give it a reality that was unborn of its kin. Like a festival held in a swamp, sticking and festering in its entirety while still showing the world its purpose. It’s the kidneys of feelings. The liver of the soul. The fish swim in its streams are not hungry. The insects are fat and bloated. The music of the festival is dark and full of melodrama. Anger was still here but in good company. There was still hope and growth and the beer flows well, the barley is freshly harvested and the food is a culinary adventure but a pleasant one nonetheless.

Darren sat in his apartment living room listening to the next track on the album. Each one tied to a memory of Mary. The next song was a really old Passion in Liverpool cover of a Jethro Tull song called Budapest. We met in Budapest. In a cafe near a Medárch Square in Elizabethtown. The memory came back like a dream.

****
“Hello their handsome.”
Sitting a short distance from Darren Mary is in this cafe. Her short black hair and red dress shining in the mid morning sun.
In his SF uniform Darren had joined pretty much as soon as it formed.
Realizing he didn’t have much better to do, being utterly lost and completely unable to be on time, he sits.
“Hi… I’m Darren, Lieutenant Darren Verne. Do you know where the Budapest Space Force building is?”
Mary took her sunglasses off. “Oh. It’s far from here. You will need a good coffee before you get back on the bus.” Arching her back and sitting up properly Mary isn’t a small woman. Almost six and a half feet, she’s quite elfine.
Darren takes a seat.
“If I’m going to be late, it’s a good thing I get to meet you. I am sure the Space Force needs me to be a pilot, but I can be late for one lesson.”
“They haven’t taken all the rebellion out of you then.”
“The SF? Hah. I’m only in uniform as its day one of my astro course. Tomorrow and the rest of the semester its slacks with band names and a music player if the lecture is dull. I’m don’t even need to be in my uniform today really, but it helps set the mood for me. Gets me ready to learn.”
“I’m cycling round Europe on a break from her medical degree, I’m about a year late for my last lecture!” Mary laughs a choral that fills the air like chimes.
Budapest had been one of the few cities left completely unscathed by those events they now call the Incident.
Mary buys him a coffee to take away and walks with him, then takes the bus with him, then later on she’s standing with her bike and another outside the university building.
She smiles a huge smile at Darren and says “Hey Mr Pilot. Let’s see if those big legs are as good as they look like they are!”

*****
The memory fades as the last flute solo and rock chord play.

Darren presses repeat.

******
The smell of the coffee. Good real coffee. It’s not as hard to come by now. All this an in a hour it’s over. But I have her number, she’s in Budapest for a week. I’m here till I have done my astronavigation course and am ready for the mixed G training. She’s a nurse though maybe she knows something that will help. So halfway though my next lecture I text her.

sure do. Ginger, exercises, inner ear medicine, and vomit bags :p

how did you know that so quick?

they don’t call me Dr. For nothing. My specialty is space medicine.

of course I befriend the space dr on luck 🙂

so we are friends, huh? I thought you might like a date before I leave bud?

I almost yell out in class.
My lecturer, Dr Bova asks. “So you have a strong opinion on my calculations Mr… Uh… Verne?”
“Um no. Sir.” I say apologetically.

just interrupted my class I got so excited! Tonight?
19:30 Blue on the glen. Wear that sexy uniform military boy
yes Ma’am

#####

Then there she is. In a uniform as well!
“Hey there. I’m Lt. Mary Havester, I believe we where scheduled for a date?”

*****

The dream like state goes and music starts to fade.
Tears are streaming down Darren’s face. “No more. I will remember the rest of that night, when I am ready.”