Beached Whale

(For kev, with respect)

so he lay on the couch
beach whaled
harpooned by dope
too much vodka
his brain a theatre of smoke
his life already a stupid addiction
he worked like a trojan horse
he played out his weekend like
a demolition, a destructive fire

he didn't give a fuck.
having money
and time
and health - for now.

he just kept up the great game
the great intoxication
pissing it all up against the wall
living comfortably
comfortably neurotic

am i too fat?
i'm getting fat!
look at the stretch marks!
i haven't eaten in three days

you just sit in alone all the time
watching the t.v.
posponing everything
but your own death.

love
life
dancing with the world
you gave that up
for fear
for indifference
for the fat lack of motivation
for chronic apathy all day
and all night god help us.

All the people are
motivated day in day out
and when he says
i cannot be arsed
i do not want to do anything.
everything is here. it is done.

they look at me
as though
i had molested
their entire life
purpose.

i want nothing.
i need nothing.
i am a pearl within a shell
more like, a gassy shit in a paper bag.

i just want to be
crushed by the weekend
and ironed out by work.

the clock is ticking
my heart has no hands
when the blood has stopped
running through my body
like a kiss it will finish.

And
the
sky
will
remain
like
a
door
that
never
opens.

This Tumour of Darkness.

So what is it going to be then...?
Do you want to rape beautiful women
in dark streets, dominating, force them
into bed, to strangulate their throat a little:
you love the thought of pleasure and terror
at odds with one another?

Do you want to fuck
little hairless girls and slender boys,
just to prove you're still young,
and educate all that children have
sexuality too? Or do you want to fold
then gift wrap because you are
truly sick in the cranium?

Do you want to rub
faeces and piss and shit
all over your body
and spread it all over
your erogenous zones,
with your lover doing the same,
all arts and crafts and face painting,
because that's the kind of an animal you are?

Do you want to fuck your mother
or your father, or your little cousin,
imaging them nude in posture,
dominating you or you dominating them
again and again: a bed of incestuous
moans...?

Do you want to torture
a complete strange,
by hammering splinters through
the slits of their finger nails?
Do you want to stab them
in the stomach and photograph
them bleeding ?
Do you want to run rampage
through the streets with a hammer
gun bludgeoning and maiming
hundreds of anonymous innocent people?

Do you desire to bugger and molest
dogs, horses, lamas, mice and snakes?
Do you dream of erotic animal farms
in the most depraved and wicked
nature? Are you a bestial leech
sucking on the udders of a
family of Cows?

Are you privy to darkness?
Someone is...Someone must be...
With such depraved and wicked nature
Someone is...Someone must be...
For this litany of pitiful sick-on-a-cellular-level-Sins
Someone is privy to this tumour of darkness...

(I am obsessed with the darkness,
but I have a strong sense of Light
standing by me. I want to prize the world
open, to expose itself and clean
its insides outside...)

Which do you want,
do you hide?
Do you want these things?
What one is creates your darkness...

No?
You don't?
So what's your
bloody problem
with the World?

Arsenokoités and Malakos

-->

Fruits of Labour

Jam loved Honey.
Honey loved Sugar.
Sugar loved Strawberry.
Strawberry loved Lemon.
Lemon loved Salt.
Salt called them all:
FAG HAPPY FOOLS!
Got drunk
peppered their eyes
and never returned.


As Adam Early in the morning

Adam men make such strange women,
the hair on your ass is not Shakespearean,
and there is much that the world feels wrong,
but the universal whiteness of our bone is enough
to show God loves more than words confound.
Your touch is wholly more than sound.
Your body with my body is so brand new.
And together we learn to come around
realise warm to the touch, this is
what made world grow and love kindle.

An Archaeological Query

Queer all those dark passages.
Hairy, cavernous, filled with spiders' webs
and dark matter clinging to the walls.
This cave needs some excavation,
some manly or limp wristed Indiana Jones
must bring to light the Holy Legacy
and Fag Happy mystery
of the Arsenokoités and Malakos.