I fucked her all over her house, all over my mind.
The lounge chair, the floor.
I shaved her at the kitchen sink. Her perched like an infant and me as gentle as can be.
She knelt on tiles and put her back to shag pile as I bullied and shoved my love around.
I drank her down and quenched a thirst like no other.
She touched and kissed and raised me from rest.
We held each other to quell the shakes, nose to nose, locked at love.
She licked the tears from my cheeks before they scarred me forever, then drove the brine on her tongue into my mouth as if I'd wilt at the lost fluid.
We watched flames dance and mimicked their licking actions as if our flesh was wood.
Knocks at the door and the telephone were ignored along with time.
I strutted naked and ugly and she applauded.
She walked by, a vision of beauty, and I stood silent in awe of the way the air parted to allow her passage and then merged so slowly to caress her back and shoulders. The breeze sighed her name and kissed her nipples hard.
I took my pen and wrote poetry on her stomach, then read aloud what I'd written and scented her approval, tasted her thanks.
The incense burnt cedar-wood and I could fairly see creatures of the forest scurry and perch, twitter and wrinkle their congratulations.










Yellow spine, cowardly fool
wrapped tight, a tension spool
Toe to toe a fighters dream
tough enough, a child-like scream.
Spill the blood, hunters thirst
poor relation the sacrificed curse.
White feather, cower low
scarless brow, a manhood shows.
Silent twin, sibling scream
shared secrets a tortured dream.
A soul relation, schoolyard talk
shackled minds, the crippled walk.
Trophy chain, smokeless eyes
dismembered thoughts, forgotten lies.
Setting sun, the rising swell
take my hand, gates of Hell.
Stolen life on the bloodied tongue
feed the green, staying young.
Fools left spared wear the idiots grin
Unbending will, the wait within.







His obsession
her stupidity
a match made in Hell.
Her weakness
his violence
through the smoke haze who can tell?
Her trim quim beguiles him
his huge manhood weighs him down
Her thoughts taunt him
he's compared to......
words they spread around town
He is lazy
she is crazy
to lose the nothing on her mind
He's cold
she's feeling old
torn apart what do they find?
He sleeps in one room
she dreams of that room
the dark stranger in her life.
She gets excited
his life is private
just an incident locked in time.








Gang banger
butt fucker
long-time
gutter lover.

Big titted
slow witted
blonde headed
knows it all.

Parasitic
human dip-stick
crying baby
always maybe.
orphan child
black inside
God give me some relief.

Death instructor
hate conductor
"Don't you touch her"

Fragile ego
egg-shell life
soap suds
burn arid eyes.

Open cunted
back to fronted
rear-end shunted
20, seen it all.

Clit licking
pussy sticking
finger touching
away from all the boys.

Socialising
vocalising
the words you want to hear
face down sleeping hides the weeping
love denied a tear.

Too young to love
too old to wait
the time at hand that comes too late.

Late nights walking
soft foot stalking
leave the innocent asleep.
Fatted drunkard the Devils chimney
shared moments do they keep.

Fascist brown shirt
loving wet dirt
no-one gets hurt
"It's a joke you fucking fool"

Sterile grinning
never winning
sins unforgiven
to her neck the widening pool.

Revolving door
a no-fuck whore
pleads for more
goes scheming to her death.

Close handed
money grabbing
back stabbing
she'd steal your final breath.

Carefree riding
digit sliding
always fighting
to stay above the fear

Cheek kissing
public pissing
the vital missing
thoughts go with those not here.







Tied to the bed by desire most carnal
flat-back, legs spread, the stiffness internal
the need to offer up the most private part
the bit non-essential, away from the heart
the bit you piss from and stuff with cotton
smelt in, dwelt in, the part never forgotten
for it leaks and oozes at touches just right
the search for the stiff one, that fit so tight.
It's like trying on shoes, only different sizes fit
and slide on the velvet, so moist and so slick.

Do you play with your clit as they slide in and out?
Do you whimper and moan or cum with a shout?

Harder, faster, the slap and the whack
as it's driven again and again, up and then back.

Eyes open or closed
Do you know his name?
Face in the pillow they feel all the same
just a cock in your cunt and hands on your tits
that patch on the bed both yours and his.

When spent does he talk or roll over and snore?
Does he bang away 'til you're red-raw and sore?
Does the johnny with cum get tossed aside?
Does he lick the juice from inside your thigh?
When you wake from your sleep is he still around
or like the rabbit he's gone to ground?
Because that's how you like it, some in and away
a different time now the sobriety of day.
a notch on the bed-post, a memory to wear
will he tell all his friends or were they all there?
awaiting their turn, the victory scream
awake you are now
relax just a dream.

Dear Doctor and your demon friends, you've called in to spend some time with a mind fresh from the streets of desolation.
Crying for a storm with thunder
the rise up from under
and through
cut a swathe
in complacency lay idle, an infant searching legs
unrestrained mobility
close at hand stability.

"Why, why, why"?
sounding off like Delilah.
To find her and hold
and feel the fold where flesh meets flesh
where I and my demons caress, a night and early morning child
smiling a tear runs wild.

In the air the scent of capture now denied with scant regard
the breeze carries whispers far.

If I were to surround myself with a moat
deep, watery, unfordable by all but the stout of heart the centuries might fall away to resemble nothing but scratches on my frame.

Breaths taken and held in apprehension.

When the glare cause a squint, seen as a wink by me in my search for more
before blindness came from between Papal hands and swelled a womb with mistimed love.

The arching beauty caressing a cushion
feather-down and sponge reassure then rearrange a pleasure.

Reptilian scales slide a threat, lost on chastity's unsoiled state of art
wingless and dying the pawn imparts a dying wish bearing scars.

Ancestors applaud
Polite gestures
Polite reward

Unpresuming modesty calls a mirror home and ugliness takes hold behind these eyes that shuffle into shape
and a tongue that flickers in time to a heartbeat
the silent pant engulfing all to satisfy a hunger.
Bottomless starvation
cataclysmic retardation

Don't leave without "Adieu"
this boredom of mine seems right for you

The company of an untouchable.

A bower's nest of borrow and rhyme
85 cents ticks away words in time.

Deathly silent
Silence is death gone serious

Years away yearning a touch, a rise in the tide
darkened avenues find Autumn times.

Fall to gutters as acceptance fell to knees and lost it's head to tyranny
spilt a haze of blood bruised and suffering

Open sores crying poor
the welfare need of more and more

So now you choose to reappear
if with invisibility you have appearance
don't loose yourself in memories.

The haunting comes.
Ghosts run with chains away
unbound, bounding
Is the echo a resounding
or the sound continuing off to a distant ear, still in the head of the me from here?

My warmth thaws your icy calm
My smile so wide

Anger, despair, frustration growing thorns,
crying the tears in black
veiled to hide faces,
to hide intent in places
between mobility's home
where ownership roams.

A siren lays bare skulls, and shadows creak with the movement of bones
fragile, brittle to the touch
flesh wrapped chalk
on haunches like an incontinent cur
spraying all before and after
sooner or later
the sooner the better
better than ever.

"So vague"
"Falling away to nothing"

Come steer my gondola through the canals of a city I've never seen
float my vessel worthy or not
At sea now to sink or sail forever
to find eternity's island just another horizon away.

Repetition stricken with adolescent love
unripe adults greening on the vine.
Speak your mind.
Find respect in the sound of your own voice.
Take the time to ache in the worst of places
as the soothing takes away the age.

Were I to tumble to that lawn so carefully kept, bearing fruit
where the well ripples with life.
Wish I might
My garb
my touch
and my touch of them
now a wonder
The intermittent call of splendour holds me tenderly at the brink of all I'd want
all I'd not have back

Now like the red mosquito of yore, swooping to drain
an existence to yourself
survival through obsession
perched high and away from reality's door but a swat from the end.

I doubt you'll find what you came here for.
No satisfaction.
No glow of achievement
I'm disappointment remember
a non-attaining entity
So sell you extract of the empty
Learn the lesson of the dead
Or did they die in vain
to fill the void
more empty silence amid the great big nothing
all screams internal
sonic scrapes to the skull.

Hide then
as if facade is a safe haven from the truth.
Face paint smiles and frowns
closet stars
eyes burning emeralds growing large at the pulpit
weaving the liquid blanket of almost
talking of knotting knuckles into fists
ineffectual blows to the hardened self.

Burrow away away beneath skin gone to leather with reminiscence
take your fill
leave my spirit rich with universal flight.

In the semi-darkness they perch vulture-like atop the black that never knew life. Their necks are craned for a better view of their intended.
Drool escapes their limp orifices and stains the clothing that does nothing to hide their naked ambition.
With a flap of featherless limbs, long since redundant, on a body unknown to flight, one shifts and is at my side.It's breath stale and reeking of death.
It's almost like it wishes to peck at my sanity whilst awaiting the day it can feast on a brain gone dead.
"Why doesn't it choose to pick the fat from my bones"?
It squawks and wails as if in pain when I make a move to leave.
Is that a tear in it's bloodshot eye as it notes my drink is non-alcoholic?
I wonder "Do I insult it's imposition with my uncaring ignorance"?
It almost manages a smile, but in a face that holds no teeth only affects the display of a hollow grimace.
Clutched in a gnarled, leathery talon the stick that brings the long awaited death to itself, the suffering somehow prolonged by it's certainty.
Is this a place or time?
Neither or both?









Fatallah wobbles last nights cheese-cake belly below a fringe of sequins and the ever ready bear drummers amplify Constantinople in the spray of a veteran fountain doing it's best to wet an Orlando bladder fully into kick-back mode.
The King Island camembert and cheap house-brand cheddar wrestle for attention on the squared-off oval of sterling-silver.
Between sharp cuts from a serrated would-be Wiltshire with chilli-speckled sheaths awaiting consumption, well crafted goblets of the latest in flash-moulded, non-etched, 30 to a dollar kind, shuddered at the thought of how tomorrow will be for a fifty-something Agatha doing her best to gratis her fill.

The holiday sun and pre-teens in orange and green foil-wrap have drawn out the smirks in full and between portrait 96 and a trio of landscapes the order of a special bouquet drifts along merrily.

"Lick my Pluto pup, and I'll pat my thanks on your plaited hair-piece like a jungle drummer warning of a white-man's poaching"

The razor-cut of sharp water drew breath as a lock opened and furnace heat melted company to mere memories.

The urge killed pretensions and scrawling along the thin blue was a silent voice always aware of tone, characterisation and an eventual climax, just as predicted on page 3 of that 5 page epic about a hotel where Diaphanous or some other form of contraception soured a spinster's delusions to the extent of venomous correspondence.

Celery waded with carrots and capsicum splashed wildly in the puddle of Italian dressing that bathed lunch in adventurous divergence.

Sit silent and hide behind the foliage pre-library and ponder taps and flapping thighs.

The sleeping partner took to flight about now and while the spindly biker tried to kick-start a wife and 3 kids, 3 kids with two mothers did Aladdin, on a big screen, with 1 o'clock promises to a jocular wet-spot on the horizon.

A proboscis rested on a lower lip dripping want and good times to a staid floral-robed dinosaur hiding behind 21 years as a paper-boy in an effort to shed 4 carats of promise and a life-time of expectation.

Publish and be damned. Then stand and taunt with your over-publicised, under-dressed novellas of hard-bodies, twilight beaches and bothersome 8 year-olds who have found being seen is just not sufficient to feed a syndrome locked in deficit, and that not being heard won't sling them a 140 for a top of the line yo-yo that plays itself so well it knows where to piss, sans training.
Take the coast-road through some bad tv and see if Quincy really knew his mild-mannered assistant doubled as a hoop for quoits on the Love Boat. Third quoit from the front, at the junction of if 6 was 8 in another time frame altogether he stood, hardly noticing the sweat-streak in mascara wanted dead or alive for 15 years of disco murder in the most industrialised nation on Earth.

There's no doubting the filthy smiles brought by the filthy lucre of no feelings and no fun all gassed up for a Belsen submission. So hold all showers and stay to the left all those intent on using astrology and other forms of star-gazing as guides to life-styles.

Under the charred remains of a cool ash the nodules gathered souls like ghost-towns take tumbleweeds for granted and a tuber-root proved that dead-wood can float.

When a knock-kneed gent shuffled aside at the slightest touch a puce shirt flared pink and a city's air flared the eyes to a red-raw strain.

"That bastard fly blazed a dark trail through my vision and dared to circle the Kong atop his brushed-wool arm-chair empire state".

Hot and bright gives way to evening and sweltering, and the Rock takes a break and grooves into rhythm with the blues so bad it could almost be cool enough for jazz.

"Chew down and pick teeth with a fracture of the tree, a splinter of trunk".

Did she raise the green jacket of a champion to expose a jiggling butt cleft by the latest in hugging, sliding, "I can feel myself dampening by the minute" lingerie intentionally or is that funnel in her lower back finding the going a little bit too tough?

Please turn down the dry
Please turn up the volume.
Take up the volume.
Take up the slack.
Who'd have them take a suppository of dominance?
A bath of soapy-suds sat grinning insanely at the prospect of complete control over anal canals and colons, with a nurse rubbered-up to a pre-talced love of the disastrous.

All the tough boys lined the walls above "unwanted" or "distrusted" and clenched fists about penis-envy and how much a life of crime might be worth in the hero stakes.

The handicappers had seen the work of possible starters and informed their criminal connections that a nobbling was required.

On all fours in shop-windows and under bar-towels stolen on a whim he wished white-collar tags "All the best" as the shifting weight of albatross to vultures of cartoon-purple wiped feet below dripping sexes on the best endeavours a man has to offer.

Burn like the sandal would if you were a loose pair of cotton panties about the ankles catching eyes on the breeze and numbering off lost fingers to misdirected hate.

A mother knows a sister's dilemma and the in-laws order 1 egg, tunneled and cavernous, for their edification and canonisation totally for the cause, of course.

Celebrate the girl-next-door's maturing to womanhood with a hard-on stiff and yearning.

Pop well-boiled cookies over nothing to nowhere and feel light years from death on the cooling embers of loneliness.

Intimate details rattled around a child's play-pen and the scream for a nipple to stick to drove home like the final nail in an already sealed, buried, exhumed for proof and re-interred, coffin resting snugly in the adopted's mausoleum of ad nauseum ad infinitum.

Tight jeans shifted over death and hardened eyes pulled grey-check apart from such close proximity that a crack in the footpath was heard to moan under the weight of a shifted stance.

"Stand still", the beat in a heart fluttering an attack now months old and occupying precious space on an inky rag.

When the sun don't shine organ man the monkey takes back all privileges for divestment amongst the hordes feasting on peanut-shells and off-key comparisons to an icon burning a sugar mountain down around ember ears.

"Share a gusset-secret back seat acrobat".
"Mother is only jealously matching snap-shots with the misappropriated beauties at her disposal".

The steel-city Masada fell with nary a whimper and Herods called on beasts from hell to deal with an interloper causing mannequins to smile tears the crocodile would have snapped in an instant.

Between the sounds of insects and the working of my 85-cent clock the silence doesn't stand a chance.

"Dance on you flickering fool to my incendiary device".
"Burn oxygen from my patch of breath".

Sleep looms but won't take me up to it's bosom. It fears my transgression and allows snippets only to filter back to wakefulness.

"What do you sip from your bottle that makes your smile so broad and your feet so hardy as to cope with burning concrete"?
"More of the same in the cold of a dead-night will stop the chills rising from an ice-block altar".

A wallowing wildebeast checked receipts for identity and placed a month's notice on a handful of cold hard plastic bound for blood-stream satisfaction and cerebral liberation.

Count the twists in the spine as hope shrivels on a stick over fires of eviction and long-held ramifications.

In a rush to hit the wall unseen, with not one but a dozen insane palms itching the death on her back, baying at invisible moons, she had lied and cried a million miles of phone calls, all Santa unanswered with charity denied.

"No free invites from this establishment I'm afraid"
"Try across the road, they do a wonderful line of heart-felt thanks"

A used car salesman paged another beer from the fridge as a customer strolled toward rust-bucket Ford, unaware of his secretaries secret lust for desk-tops and closed venetians. From the clippings clustered on the floor she'd been able to amass enough of nothing to engorge labia and harden nipples forever, then rolled over and played dead to a necrophiliacs urge to feel maggots eat out the eye of his cock.

The living-dead roll ceaselessly through eternity and take turns at raising faint hope on faint lines, in faint out of the way sanctuaries so as not to alarm any but the understanding.

"No comprende una diablo"
"Si. Espanol"

The insect Quixote and the salted Margarita swapped spit as a testament to the birth of chaos and the unheralded return of a well-to-do future.

A sweet-soul-sister nursed the whiskey and milk while a blue-suited centurion bled Medusa tears.
"Sweet mother forgive me for I have done no wrong. The rapist was but a replica, nothing but a face-less ghost lost in the victim's mind".
The strung beauty sings to fill caverns
the black-box tells all, a lonely survivor when all flights fail.

Drip the sweat like sand
watch the dark-headed ibis as it picks at flesh not yet dead
tasteless and tough.

In darkened corridors of skin strewn truth, like misplaced trophies, grotesque accessories.
Tell me Alabama Miss how far you drove to Hell
Tell me Louisiana Slim do you think they'd all like to tell?

Can my hands find 4, no 5, now going to 6
with dawns arrival like a dagger through sanity's heart

Filth pig ministry
space pig visionary
sty-bound porcine in a love-nest solitude
wasted perspiration stained pages
depths so cold, full of transparent life
glowing
consuming
vanishing at Cousteau bubbles
vanquished beneath a liquid smock.

Non-chemical, non-laziness pushes a pencil with a mind almost it's own.
The silent purity takes it's fill, stays silent and never smiles.

When they could have swung they forced grins, followed leads and waited for an audience.

The peddler warned of rabbit-traps.
Sand dunes an eyeful, a barrier to a view.
White crests so far out as to be in some-one else's world.
They'd be within mine could I wish that far
could I hold a dream that long.
Did I spy flotsam become a raft, afloat, loosely trussed?

The bard wore the grave like a skirt, saw beauty in the simplicity, the realisation of pain.
Conquer oneself as oneself becomes a part of the whole.

They fake a dance while serpents bound up stairways with wealth in hand to share moments as one with the willing.
The night roars at the lonely, who roar back through clenched teeth.

Sing "Sweet chariot"
carry well the hopes balanced about your axis
carry home to me
carry mountains to prophets for the construction of islands.

A stranger quotes of petals and fuses, trees buried in time, while the chant for more builds optimism from air in lungs and sorrowless hearts.

Feel free to rejoice
rejoice to feel free.

Again the night roars.

I face my lion in a den of my own choosing
no Caesar to thumb up or down
no Helen or Cleopatra scheming seduction so sweet and fine.
"Slip me the asp poison, watch me wither on the vine"

In a room without holes in the walls sin slides easily into view in a vain search for a sanctuary.
I'd offer my words, it wouldn't be enough
my time wouldn't quench the need

Mock bondage lures false hope, draws out the best and leaves the rest to please themselves
myths sit on shelves gathering dust, a testament to their age and authenticity.

Beneath my skin I shudder as if consumed post-death by a pit full of the soil's finest somehow risen through my erect condition.










Walk with me to the edge of life, where death she waits
arms out like Mother's,
bosom warm and heaving with maternal pride.
Glimpse a chance of Utopia sinking slowly through a rising pool

Hold my face dear at the last.
I'll know
I'll carry you on
a trekker to your guide, the voice of your spirit.
I'll taste your bitterness and know your frustrations.
How close and yet so far?

Can we feel the warm wind dry the sweat or straighten crooked smiles?
Too late to take back harsh words, to shield the long-gone stares.
Can we retrace the steps that brought us together, that brought us here?
Where we go or stay.
To stay or go?








You spoke the words that broke the heart and choked the throat that lied
You took the vow of the when and how and left a world that died
To make the fist with the bloodied palm as hatred burns you up
You saw the real, the fanatical zeal, with burnt eyes that never shut
Do you feel the urge to binge and purge, took to refuge so far away
Time passed you by, you felt them die, behind words you couldn't say









Sweated up little funky thing
I see you dance , I see you sing
you swish and sway with a touch just right
I see you bathed in dawn's red light.

Heated hunger knows no bounds
say it here, say it loud
take me in, enfold my pride
silence rules from a mouth held wide.

Flesh-pot honey on burning skin
kept for me, love not sin.

A hummingbird at the blossom of life
sweet sensation of taste and sight.

An explosion of passion an eruption of guilt
down again, deeper still
pounding, pleading, a call for more
touching home, the molten core.









Brewing up a "Haha" as if "Haha" is all you get
You'll come up dry, no chance of coming up wet.
Less chance of going down
a wetness felt, unlikely to drown
smelt, tasted, the musky dew
it tells the difference between me and you.

I felt you
I saw you
I tasted your smile

You kissed me
I loved you
You dwelt a while

The noise, the confusion, from inside not out.
You whispered, I misheard, my deafness a shout
repeated, cheated, deceptive as Hell
eyes bulging, mouth gaping, tongue flapping, no yell.










Some-one told me once over my 12th beer that Jesus never slept much
crying his life away.

A siren strutted the foot-path chic all unclad breasts and bare-arsed cheek.

The fucking dog howled, drove the bubbles away
howled in to the evening as we killed another day.

The couple over there handshaking lies
the best friend watches them dying, starts putting coins in their eyes.

The green felt of home and the "clink" of china orbs recalls more than I have the right to.

Black-balled
Black-balled again
Black-balled again

They painted the walls, buried memories under coats of the latest five paint mix
the words scrawled by the desperate when the desperate need to piss.

A stumbling pin-cushion left his world behind
sat it on a ledge like a threatened suicide

How cool
How cool
How slow fool

I'd call them women and insult the word
another canine shares bed-space with a girl.

The blue glowing concoction like a love-potion brew
A wicked witch
a sleeping beauty
all here from dusk 'til noon.

Look at the way the moths kill the light
they cast their shadows, take all the heat.

Another beer looks like dying to another killer's thirst
another dream is over
another bubble's burst.

A neighbour talks up memories and buries a life in a pit full of words meaning nothing more than my very own.

"Show me the photos then"
satisfy your mind
"Another drink"?
I'm sure I'll find the time

She'd chat up a bourbon, leave a book cover down and unread
like the one from before crying tears in bed.

That family on the tv mounted trophy like above the stains
they're all here, it's Wednesday again
come the Thursday rush it'll be just him and me
she'll be gone to her perch to titter and preen
to count feathers in a boa about a neck sitting like pearls
the constriction hardly felt
she fingers her curls
drains the ginger all whining
and slides a stool so an uncle can give some warmth through mere proximity.

A human juke-box strikes up a mess
a world away the parents undress
spend afternoons humping away restrictions
an appointment with Grandmother, they're busy making decisions.

Can you hear the pinball machine scream it's name?
Drink another one down hide the public's shame.
Drink another one downplay the public's game.

Back to that insomniac from the beer before last
I kiss the stone as I kiss the past
as I kissed her that night.
She moaned, called me "Baby, baby'
"Don't go. Come on baby"
So well rehearsed, promising of love.

The young girl on a beach now cradling hours in chilled palms
her unmuscular arms couldn't hold a dream let alone another me.

Let alone another me
Let alone another me

And left alone another me could find comfort on any bosom
nursed there like a child crying back the years
nursed there like a child holding back the fear
nursed there like child, making sure I got my monies worth
While the walls ears and the doors eyes held secrecy first
before the cab ride
wrapped in Xmas lights of neon, all names and instruction
my vision blurred by the pace of my flight, then distinct and as painful as my destination.

I thought I heard the dog howl again.
It could have been any dog.
It could have been a memory howling for my blood
any penance I now incur far short of all crimes
no forgiveness.
"Oh Lord" my own slow demise mirrors them all
I'm no God, no angel, no haunting demon in dust
I'm just another, alone, haunted by lust.
Send me a sinner
we'll have dinner.
She can have wine, I'll take the water of life
I'll drink from her fountain.

This reverie feels out of place in a tomb where the dead hold court
In the scene where the catchphrase is "Absence of thought".