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4. |
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I take the foreground
but I don’t make a sound
put on the gloves
and wipe the dashboard down, and
the twisted chrome
of
motorcycle.
I offer shelter from the rain, where
I lost my heart
to a roadkill ghost
clutching sticky sickly roadside bouquets
in the cab
i hate myself
the most
strange attraction
collecting scalps, these
moon-spun sugared dirty crimes
glory holes on every side
crisscross shafts of needling light, these
urinal games just suit me fine
when you take me blindly
from behind.
mancandymancandymancandymancandyman
candyman.
the flop-sweat tic, crawl, scrotal flesh
through mirror crack’d
bug-spattered haze
the ravens
flank
the motorway.
flap. flap. flap.
candymancandymancandymancandyman
candyman.
la, la, la, the radio goes
(…)
Now I’ve caught
my kind of man
the crippled disco
on which seconds hang
anyone that gives me time
will cleave to me till stall doors bang
he loves me
he loves me not
he loves me
he loves me not
he loves me
he loves me not
i love you
i hate you
candyman.
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crossing the tracks
there’s no going back
sat on the floor
by the kitchen door
one sad little boy
playing with his toys
this ain’t a game
he’s only just in the frame
the kid loves ketchup
and he gnaws on his rusk
as he switches the heads
on barbie and ken
and he don’t wanna talk
down no tincans on string
to imaginary friends
the kid loves ketchup
he got his tonka truck
he don’t give a fuck
comes down smashing the cars
"wipe that gunk off your lips
go give your mommy a kiss
give back her clothes".
the kid loves ketchup.
in his box makes a cab
but there’s blood on the dash
looks like ketchup
blood running in runnels
as he enters the tunnel
yeah, looks like ketchup
roadkill under the stars
venus + mars
but there's nothing in his eyes
looks like ketchup.
tonka takes dinky
as he sucks on his pinky
looks likes ketchup.
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9. |
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suddenly i want to hold you again
and the moment is perfect
both transient and tangible
i'm head over heels
and i love how it feels
october pitched wild
flutter, black butterflies
falling through colours and sparks
a gazillion fireworks
exploding
in backseats of cars
in dreams, i have legs
stabilizers removed
step in front of the truck
with nothing to lose...
laugh out loud
they shoot horses
don't they?
disguise in love
with a boy half my age
wallflowers wilting
on hot summer days
no longer needing
those shadows
to retreat into
once songs drop their tempo
and there's no-one to cling to.
save me the slow one
and i'll blog you on tuesday
stream you a kiss
maybe win you a goldfish.
laugh out loud
they shoot horses
don't they?
disguise in love
and it's love in disguise
but the chat-rooms are full
and this ain't real life
trawling through blindspots
and holes in the land of the blind
just to dance with you
leading this time
and i daren't even crawl
from behind my firewall
and the headlights stretch
into infinity
transfixing
me.
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10. |
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tuning in
to those godawful poptones
let it be
your motorcycledeathsong
glory be
your motorcycledeathsong
let it be
the bones of mom
under the seat
with your skull beneath my feet
hush, my darkling, hush for me
the milk turns blue
+ sickly sweet
hush
all she could do was push
crushed
mother, the blood
across the slick asphalt
frame by frame
blue flutter blue
as the sirens wail
for the wailing sire
glory be.
this then
your
motorcycledeathsong
kiss me deep
let it be.
your blue, blue milk
from mother’s teat
god lives
his blaze in colour
god lives
in yellow tape
in motorcycledeathsongs
god lives
in garbled CB static
god lives
in bare-bulb attics
god lives
in his mangled chrome
god lives
in home sweet home
and in
the blue blue milk
god lives
in the red macadam
in the squished grey matter
god lives
in Lazarus dreams
and in the blue, blue milk.
Glory be.
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14. |
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15. |
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flow my tears
realignment surgery botched
all eyes pinned
on my barbie doll crotch
i realise, too late, i’m aligned all wrong
i hate you god
for these dreadful songs
my body haunting
his dreams
all along.
I’m on fire!
flow my tears
betray my genes
i’ll be your neuromancer
your dancing queen
your nemesis, or
something in-between
courting evil
in dank latrines.
i squat
over porcelain
like the freak that i am
mewl like a baby
make out like a man
our pissing games
how high can we get?
flow my tears
aim for the sky
but only get our shoes wet
when i get this stump working
gonna turn it on you
as the bruises turn darker
slowburningblue
la-la-la-la
pissing games
how high can we get
flow my tears
aim for the sky
we only get wet.
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released January 1, 2019
