Bukowski Loathed

Bukowski Loathed

Leave us Chinaski
Leave us his racing slips and beer.
Leave us your model of what one shouldn't read
Grown amongst the flowers sits
A gnarled and wizened weed.

Oh you love to harp 
About how we should be
Don't you know
We are loathed
Loathed like Bukowski

Leave us with Henry
Leave us his factories and jails
Leave us your model of what one shouldn't do
When the clouds have passed your eyes
The sky will remain blue.

Oh you love to harp 
About how we should be
Don't you know
We are loathed
Loathed like Bukowski

Leave us Bukowski

Leave us Bukowski
Leave us his cigarettes and whores
Leave us your model of what one shouldn't be
The stars are dim, dim at day
But in the night they're free

Oh you love to harp 
About how we should be
Don't you know
We are loathed
Loathed like Bukowski

The Only Fruit

The Only Fruit

I

When we were young we looked to you
For pleasure and for pride

We tried to climb your blackened limbs

But your thorns stabbed our sides

Older then, we looked again

But now for fuel and frame

And so we thought to cut your trunk

Yet axes bounced back lame

We left without a meaning clear
For we will ever fail

And the dire wind that drove us home

Filled your autumnal sails

The only fruit, those dried up leaves

Blown from your dreary tree

We catch between a string of sighs

And crumbling ennui

II

The village spat until you moved 
To dribble on the town
The mangle of the city clamped shut
Your jaw and you drowned

Friend, you could have been the darling
Light of every shore
But you were chained up on the rocks
Before the sea's cold roar

Yet I'll drink until a mirage
Smiling comes to me
And I'm caught between a string of sighs
And crumbling ennui

The only fruit comes in a glass
That's swallowed with a grin
And the dire gale that drove us here
Blew from within.

Traction Show

Traction Show

Those old men spend their last days

Working on immobile steam engines:

It is some fucking hobby.

Euphoric Flashback (Take 2)

Euphoric Flashback (Take 2)

 

Dreamlike an astronaut paced like a spirit

The folk in the forest were chasing their hit

How simple the substance made you an ethereal

Being

You're back on the drug that you thought had all drained

And that kid in the photograph swaggers on stage

Those motorbike engines will scream through the trees

Once more

It must be a chemical within my brain

That infinite void where we are the same

I pray in that place that you'll never forget

About me

Dripped from your third eye the horror escaped

You cried laughter the instant your senses were faked

And yet you left the wood to its moans when you aged

Into dread

They said some year soon that you'd have to pay -

Smoke winds through the woods like a veil blown away

You remember a junkie who stared at nothing

At peace

It must be a chemical within my brain

That infinite void where we are the same

I pray in that place that you'll never forget

About me

You're drilling a tunnel back into those days

With your hole of a synapse that still reeks of haze

And your tread remains buoyant in spite of depressant

Effects

You want to describe that far towering sight

But your blood holds the only communion of night

And your words are submerged and you cannot bring them

Into view

It must be a chemical within my brain

That infinite void where we are the same

I pray in that place that you'll never forget

About me

My Body Again Disagreed With My Head

My Body Again Disagreed With My Head

I told myself that I'm happy alone

Then dreamt of limbs wrapped together in bed

Thus when I found that I woke on my own

My body again disagreed with my head

In older days it would be a haunting

They'd call the priest in low tones of dread

To silence the devil his daemonic taunting

A crucifix pressed against me till it fled

Crop

Crop

A crop has grown within my brain

The harvest of a neural strain

It bears the rotting of our faith

I pluck the fruit to fill a space

To crowd the horror of the void

That nectar drowns my empty hive -

Pour those weepings in a cup

Drink up, drink up

Here's a drink for every wasted hour

That you spent with me

Lap it up and don't be sober

Drink that crop of misery

I wear my own mammalian skin

It feels like I'm an alien

An insect crawling in the sun

Beneath my conscious light I run
From brightness to the dark alone

To safety in the closing gloam -

Pour your madness in a cup

Drink up, drink up

Here's a drink for every wasted hour

That you spent with me

Lap it up and don't be sober

Drink that crop of misery

That sheaf feels rough held in your hand

You've grown the crop of this bleak land

And though the mill stone grinding is

The only music left for us

We will never leave this hated

Plot dried out emaciated -

Pour your struggle in a cup

Drunk up, drink up

Here's a drink for every wasted hour

That you spent with me

Lap it up and don't be sober

Drink that crop of misery

Napowrimo 3 - Blinker

Blinker

Five hours awake

                                         Scope of my vision

Our needs are met

                                         Healthcare decisions

Professional services

                                         Hiring now

Dribbling milk

                                         Cult of the cow

Thought for the day

                                         Tariff is empty

Charging my mood

                                         Your heat is plenty

Thought would be safer

                                         Bodies are weak

The landslide will settle

                                         Nuzzling cheeks

Like flint in your hand

                                         Scoring a groove

Divined upon bones

                                         On abacus moved

Forever the saint

                                         A small effigy

Electrical lights

                                         Will never be free