Part and marshal 

Purple sky darkens 

I cannot apologize for this present marking 

Sealed with my lonely life

Peeled like a bone thife 

Marshal right

Why I’m so cold, distant from plight 

Partly my thoughts, partly my fright 

Scared like I am 

Of all these thing that can and have

Traumatized by their shouts and fights 

Mind anexity going at the speed of light 

Part and marshal, white distance frightful

Will any grass grow in my barren mind?

Salted as it is by hate, cold, hard, fire and brimstone that isn’t even real

It’s my birth of the color 

Caution, doors open outside your head but inside your mind

And mine were shut such a long time ago 

You were the only one who ever opened them 

Juice of Hate

Perhaps the juices of hate The raw mistakes 

going to face 

What did it take 

Is I still exist for the sake?
Of argument, of bargain with 

Hunter of course I am not 

Gathered this juice
Pace of the day 

The rotting grass stains me

Going out on mace

Given that juice place 

In my fifth door of rake

I seem to never forget the ones who disappear

Awkward bun in my flax hair

sad tears; Tear, tear, tear

I seem to be able to be disjointed

Here, here, here

With so many people mixing in the place it’s hard to imagine your alone

Fear, fear, fear

Look at the cold cloudless blue sky, like your eyes

Tear, tear, tear

I’m away in unanimously imagined land, in the space were you where

here, here, here

Not in this sticky, great, grey place full of still stones and a odd sense of peace and 

Fear, fear, fear

I’m going to sing for you, the company I keep wants a song, I’m doing a dance for you, I’m mourning you

Tear, tear, tear

Be careful, I will follow you one day, I seem to seem to never forget the ones who disappear

Here, here, here.

Just simply custard 

Human hearts are pie chart resistant a Pigeon beans itself of the upper floor window and a the eggs are on the top shelf 

Cow like men giving little jobs to Swallow like girls, stones in their shoes, rocks tie their songs in the air

Good taste give, the bovine men call them honoury dykes, laughing then coughing black smoke billowing into the air 

Dogs in the backseat of the ute, the company of which is looking at a ancheint dirty pub

The two smile switch on their punk gynocentric music blasting a song about a women who is spilling her guts to confession of her sexual desires

The chase to get away from the bovine spongiform encephalopathy filled smoke on the hot dry tropical iconclastic malevolently 

Gaudy slippery muddily punctuation like pot holes occasionally exposing loose fitting overalls 

Clouds of a stormfront cover Montagine and St Augustine’s watchful gazes as they travel the warm sticky outback

Pertinent driving in the unbreakable Hilux breaks away from the emerging sunlights gaze

Eyes red and wet from the stormy Christmas weather, stuffing the air. The lightning makes a running jump

Ahead a creek is swelling with feelings of epistemological rains searing the creekbed 

They must delay of be cast into the zeitgeist waters and face the banality of the common trough

The bovine men can be seen on the horizon eating fruitbowls of mangos covered in matricide sauce 

 

Endures, the Perl

Well that wasn’t even the justice of the curls in the system 

I’m sore as a whole bunch of petitions 

Piles of cheats and gassing hermits in leering metal boxes

so I hear they melted down the ox’s

Great beanie islands, sitting in a million times their volume of views

Ques, cues

I anguished. I stepped. I swore are you doing not the right sight. That true box of things that weels it’s place, seems to know more about your directions 

Curly, your just like them 

Grenadine, mixed in tears of a virgin

Lonely, like a oyster 

You will blame the system then the others

Never see the ocean of muck you are in

Is that your fualt? Your future?

I’m just a pearl

I’ve got no cleavage to cut with

I’m anguish, I’m hatred, down into the salty sand I will fall when your gone but a memory in the heart of the ocean.

I’m part of a potion

Coming into the second hands higher than thou attitude 

I’m just dirt. I’m not nothing, but it’s how some will see me.