There’s fog for 20 metres from here
From here to screen
To midwinter
For the chill to draw out this splinter

If I could, I would. See?

I’m restless
But in a wrestle
Can’t follow the weather
Can’t stay in the metre

Choose your fighter carefully
Or you’ll be a well-honed knife
That’s in search of fear

It was a path
You laid out
For yourself

Well, I’m too old to lose a breast
As I fight for respect
In the name of a straighter shot

He’s your scripted master
Without life as apprentice
But in talkshow snow
We just need wind
He’s got powder to blow
And thinks he controls
Men with handles on machines

This is the order
We all want to be chiefs
It’s all kayfabe
Above the hole, there’s only tape
Take a pencil and rewind

Dig to the outside
From the foot of this horse
On his way to be glue
I’ll meet you on the other side
Of this hammered steel shoe

“Who are you married to?”
A grandpa asked me once about my ring
I used to wear it on my middle finger
But I’ve eaten too much fat off the land
For it to fit there and turned docile
Creature comforts of a bloated life
Solving problems by creating

Illusion of dignity
And portion control
Funny how you can red that metric off fast
Once you have access to enough

But if you pay the price
And smile as enshittification takes away
From privilege you never deserved
But were promised
You go on with a day that
Is structured by omniscience in advertisements
And the subsidies of early venture capital
That trickles down into your little world

Sometimes skin’s so transparent
That one can’t focus
To see the anabranches of the trees
From forest
Is it still embryonic, or now too old
Thickness is a stage you pass
For when you are tough enough
That’s what I’ve been sold
From some jackass

What’s this charade
Of mechanised elves and kool-aid
Sea-horseshoes that we follow to the end
Til you see Alaska from your house

Don’t trust an agent who pulls
More carbon from the earth into the atmosphere
Than the fattest man on land

What a place to see your face from

водата се идва
водата се идва

Of inner space to get a taste of

From bicycles and cigarettes
To corset waists and MAGA face,
Why are we now looking
At the new Old Woman?

He’s the kind of man to salt a snail
So I’ll ask him to bring me
Three sparrows and three pigeons to
Fly home and burn his town, oh
Such silly useful idiots
Always flying home
To their bad masters

Your neighbours behave
Only in intact chains
And your city isn’t far
For fire to hone, no
Because of hollow marrow
Fire will carbonise it all
And I will get the last laughs
When I’m finished with their pastures

So I’ll ask him to bring me
Three sparrows and three pigeons to
Fly home and burn his town, oh
Such silly useful idiots
Always flying home
To their bad masters

And I don’t know if
The atmosphere will catch on fire this time
Or if we’ll fall into a hole in the earth
But something’s gotta change in here
Because my skin is crawling and
Something is suspicious in a cycle
When things stop feeling right

Growing up, each step is a ladder
To be thrown away after climbing,
Else it trips you like a stone

Past the blue Danube
To the Black Sea
Still stand grey concrete blocks of a red state
Coloured with piss, of the
Dogs and men that have lived here
And to you dear reader,
This picture mightn’t make too much sense
But it prods me from the past

It ain’t a scar if it’s foundation
The sound of freedom from a neighbour’s station’s
Here to see
And free for all (but not like speech)
And not like beer
Those perched at star position
Still will flinch
Still all pigs
And what does this make me?

There’s dust devils too
Inside the sands of time

Two years ago I met a man
Designed little candlesticks and trinkets
But had a face and soul so hollow
Could moisten Ayn Rand
With pinned doll eyes so blank

But warm up ice
And it loses its shape
He got it from his container
That lost its taste

Meet Gaia’s sun 9 times
10 years later, he’ll derange your skin
Tell a lie a thousand times
And that version of the universe
Will take hold by consensus

This is the truth now
Building vasculature to feed his cancer
A nonconformist who walks sideways
Pale of skin, freckled
Digging craters of longevity

A murder business midwife
Delivers vengeance through a wound unhealed
And thus the wheel spins round and round

That’s the machine’s new rhythm
Forced infant labour
With sophomoric effort
In a lovely summary
With lovely jaundiced faces
A cat that’s learnt to start crying

For I have to pay for your memory
But not your sycophancy
I don’t know what twice fried tail tastes like
But ask a knot of Ouroboros

Is it a strange irony
When machine Eats the Other
Kinda red meat

A heart beating chest
Blue networked veins
Working
Rivers viewed from space
Undressed
They pulse under this light
And race
At speed of thought

When Thanatos was
Inside my skin
Like a prion disease
Of the mind

How rains burn
Rains burn

And the furniture was in the room
But his hands, too tired to move
Icons cast pitiful judgement
As their eyes follow you
It’s what you choose

A pre-nailed down being
Half-naked, see the detail, that relief
Comes flat packed, cast in brass
And hungry, to your taste
If only you could make him rise for you

I design the shade of dark
To colour my prowl
A garish street light chase
Is no dignity of ending
But acceptable when you’re still dry
Dry
Dry at night

The ears to hear you better with
The eyes to see you better with
And my third finger

It’s no surprise to find you here
Because you come back each time
Sitting in that pleather chair
Its cracks drawing country borders that I’m studying the geography of

Chase the light at the right frequency
Know it ain’t the sun, but fly
A pin will show you
To the man who knows some truths
Orient his eyes, if your dust looks right
You’ll bend light too
And turn into his prize

I hate I chase the taste
Then it’s night already
Managing borders, sovereignty
Half intake, half time in waste
Mostly water takes the space
I wish I spent doing what transcends
Instead of being stuck in body admin

At least not taste for chaste
But from bed, to bar, to fridge, to face
We return ourselves to body admin

Feel the rumination of sensation
Time spent in validation of this
System of pained hoi-polloi
Painting pictures
Of our own portraits online

Make a pillow of my ruffled feathers
Til I’m cold and weathered
Make a puzzle out of funhouse mirrors
Til I recognise myself again

I don’t want to shed the blood
I don’t want more of this stuff
I want to be the last animal
And tar the branch at last
Until we’re all too old
We ain’t need more
‘Cause we’ll be swimming in it
‘Til we’re all alone

I don’t want to make soldiers
Who will then bleed too
I don’t want wastage in a world
Of calculated fun
And I don’t want to bleed for two
Lest another son does it to you

In a Sydney state of mind
The roaches in the floorboards
And the roaches in the streets
Are scheming their lifestyle moves

Crawling over well-appointed
Painted-over switches and windows
That won’t open to prove
Nothin’ to the lords of our homes
Now that I’m longer in the teeth
Getting longer in the teats, bled dry
One’s gotta give it to the guy on the streets
He’s got Netflix open too

Get your hand out of my pocket man
I only got enough room for me
My birds, a bed and a cuck chair
And that damn desk I live on
To pay for the place I work in

A swansong of limbs on a grainy TV
But the ghosts of idealism
Wrestled their way in via private interests
All fat cats now, but friends with the rats
And the rest of us, in cargo 200

May we all watch Swan Lake once more
Until the end of time
And see how their skirts bob

And after he was planted in the ground
Just like a tulip bulb
War broke out and his value rose up
To push the daisies out
It takes printed usurps
To make a dead man work so hard
From beyond the grave like that

So she ate a poison apple
From the burning tree
It embarked a strange flavour
But that ain’t the story for me
Even if my hair caught fire
And smoke ran through the streets
A woman’s desire is sometimes
Just to have something to eat

I won’t miss you
If it takes over a month to kiss you
Don’t keep me waiting for escape
Because I ain’t got money for a glass coffin
And my little helpers have unionised
On the other side of the crane

Pick me before end of season
’cause time to think
Ends in my treason
Or leave me up a little more
To turn me into alcohol
But too long,
And I’m for party birds alone
And here starts roll call

Hey Pippi Longstockings
I could hang my coat on that nose
With those stories
I won’t ask where those golden bars
Of yours came from
Or when the old monkey of yours
Last showered

So my blue note girl has met a man
He’s promised her something
She’s kissed him once, she’s dazed
Says she feels a connection with him
Man, I guess that’s convection for you.
I’m not hurting, but need to untangle
That knot in my throat when you tangled my tongue with yours

Spend another night on my island honey
On a flyover before jumping on top of something
Pardon me if I come across vulgar
I’ll be here
I’m safe for you
I don’t remind you of anyone
Who hurt you when you were younger

It’s winter now, but soon comes summer
After another son is immolated
And the cycle’s in slumber
Yet the cherry stem is straight still
And she hasn’t turned her coat back ’round

So I've been taught since the 90s to clear my plate
So now dessert feels like work
Before these non-deterministic magic boxes, we were
Just mechanical turks with calculators
Monkeys who knew how it all worked
Who wrote frameworks weaving
Machines we could control

You know who's the king of the zoo?
He whom is everything to everyone
Changes colour, turns coats
It is pure power
To be everything to one until
You discover it is instrumentality
To a system in which nothing matters

Split up into little duos
Two against the world
Into atomic kin
Don’t have too much fun
Or think

Because unstable orbits
Might give people ideas

It’s all shadows on the wall
’til their legs stop to shake
Pocket contents falling
Breaking, lemon wedge unbitten
This didn’t match the brief
When we emerged from the sea

The pupa unwraps
Cicada crawls
Disappointment sets
Imagine how this feels for them
No sheets, no ropes
No umbilical cord
No tie on the door
And no curse that
Thinks for us all

The factories that manufactured our past
Are busy editing the versions that live in others
Not every future filmed will last
And not everyone will come to see the edit

Retarded orange shepherd’s golden toilet
Has seen more secrets than it keeps
Black-hatted white sheep milked for his green sheets
Black-eyed, Tweets:
Whatever happens,
we have got
the spaceships,
and they do not

Рани, рана, раница
Зима идва бързо
Но лято ще е студно също
В тоз прокълнат мръз

Сняг ще пада
Само в младост

Сурвакари, сурва, сурват
Зима идва бързо
С багажа, който нося
От студен вятър се обръщам

To design the architecture of our ruins
And decide the colour of their bike shed
We are the ghosts of the machine
Sorted into blue, red, yellow or teal
Not knowing if what we see is manufactured
Or if it’s real, because it was too far away
To travel and see for ourselves
On the other side of the line
On the other side of flat time
In the psychosis of a hive mind

In a world where secrets
Cohabit with a gilded thinking chair
Digital twins. Animals and saints.
Drinking each other’s water
Until too many of us lead
To there being nothing left

I’ll give you a key
To every room
Roam where you like

Except the one
In which everything you touch
Will look bloodstained
In a certain light
Won’t shine like gold
Like the rest of these halls

Certain things where
“Let me explain” is not enough
It must fit in a soundbite
The survivors are concise

You see, it’s in the compression
Word girdles shape the story
The terminus of sentences
Keep it short and sweet

Because now it’s all quite dull
And even boring
But when we’ve perfected yesterday
You can make your mind up faster

It takes too long
To explain

Darlin’ I’m a many-ringed tree
Divorced, but not from life
I wear Santal 33 and you,
Something with a ship on the bottle

But in your face I see
A wise smile and innocence
Because you get to elect your corruption
When mine was a mandatory subject

Because tonight I head to war
I hear the thumping from across the door
And the battle plan goes as such:

Read instructions on the cards
Finish your drink
Execute the acts
'til completion, and repeat

Hyperventilating
Among the genuflection
My thighs sweating like
A deadly albatross around your neck
No-one leaves 'til all are dead
‘til we step out into
Drenched streets

With my instruments inside you
I still can’t repair this ship in a bottle
Much as I need to send it back into the ocean

Ash clouds make their way inside
Flash heat burns my eyes
You fade away, but heat stays
Turns my face to dust
Turns my brain to glass
When Minerva’s owl fails to arrive

It was a problem of semiotics really
Couldn’t read the sign
But the instrument sung like cicadas in summer

As dusty fireflies touched my skin
It was like the expeditions to the pyramids
Where the curse of the king punishes us
Because we shouldn’t have been there

After the last atomic priest has died

A blue marble
One dough ball
A spoiling orange
And bitter essence
Of ever-replicating
Emerald mine dust

After AI winter, not Minsky’s monster
A black box monolith is no society
But consensus is:
The machines of hate have run

We know where to find
What makes us ever dumber
Until it chases us around
And preaches us to falter

As your eyes widen
It’s nature and nurture
Coddled and encapsulated
Do you remember when this is how
The future used to sound

Your eyes or maybe my shoes
Lift me up off the ground
But I’ll be okay
Once I come down

I feel I’ve caught a
Millennium bug

There’s now too much
I need to learn
Too many islands left
And shores to link

Fire together
Wire together

Eyes dilated
Thoughts disabled
Senses drawn
Assembled on the
Last train home

In his arrested development
This lone ascetic
Wakes with dirty hands
Sheets float away
But his shame remains

On dry land in my Drowned World
It’s just our new old nature

Let me guide your hand
With mine
Draw maps
And join mankind
In the New World

You ain’t got a split dioptre
To place two things into focus

When you’re making
Synthetic mirror life
On the other side of silvered glass

Left-handed version
Of the right hand path

This idea inside you
It is viral
Anti-vital

It slowly suffocates you
Like a python

Well, what’s next
Mademoiselle X?
It’s a part of you
Your own supply
You say no need to spare
Food for thought or body

You are beautiful
And you are needing
But I am a little too empty
And can’t make your ceiling

Careful of how deeply you stick that hand
Inside the cookie jar
Fear is the mind killer
Most men don’t get too far

We bring only what we have
Not much can fit inside
At any one time
Words will seem familiar
But too many
And your mouth will dry

I tried hard
To dress like I won’t steal
My tips worn at diagonal
My socks thinned

I’m not a thief
I’m not a thief
I belong here

My pockets have holes
I’m not wholly here

I got home and removed my claws
In the waiting room are different laws
Of what you can carry
And what you can do
When the distance is altered
This place will fit two

Because you should feel safe
And you should feel larger
Let me lay down first
None of that ol’ “How’s your faatha'”

Welcome to Somnistanbul
A city designed for you
Where no shadows scream
The monsters under my bed might be real
But they are tied
And you’re safe in your dreams

I’ve read kilometres of letters
Of scrolls and things, that’ve never been
I’ve had dreams of dying
While waiting for words
On number stations

Waiting in the attic
Sitting through the noise
It isn’t free will, nor a choice

20 8 5 18 5 9 19 14 15 2 15 4 25 8 5 18 5

It was his black swan
No-one would have thought
That empty feeling
When a nice girl’s fallen
But the icon of her name’s still pure

All it took was a gander
Obtuse, thoughts intrusive

She has different faces, not moons
In her eyes, no stars
Only one’s surprise there’s
No weeknight left to fallow

It’s spring outside
A piercing ray of sun
As the wind cuts right through me
I’m purged of man and
Full of letters sans
The rise in my chest
Or sunken heart

The night when I was
Looking up at the lamp
Red through my eyelids
As I lied in the dark

I’ve deleted the script
Left to harmonize with
Mutant genes future’s picked

They say a man’s soul
Is shown by that between his lungs
But it’s the crippled trickle
From a feeble mind
To content on his tongue
That matters

Because information is power
And we are all guilty ’til we’re tried

Leper legion
No pledge of allegiance

I raised you with my own saliva, words and wine
Tried to imagine myself resenting you
But in my mind’s eye there’s no light

Your eyes are bright and your hair is ashen
Like the chestnut haze of cigarettes
You wrap these long arms around my body
Like you knew that none were left

Of the turns round the earth
Vertiginous hours of the clock
Time perverts us all
In a muddy well’s reflection

I’m a zebra sans her stripes
A fox clad like a dog
It’s a nightmare that’s recurring
Sniffing death in the air
Where my shovel’s buried in the ground

A pair of human legs
That morph past midnight
A creature that runs
Before it stands
But what do you stand for?

The rains have poured down
His nose growing out the ground
I ain’t digging the grass up
My hands are too blistered for this
Strange, fun, guy.

Now I’ve been thrusted out
A curse upon you
It’s good to know what game to play

When you bite too hard
I’ll drop my tail
And run faster

Within and out
I don’t believe in Karma
But sometimes
One strikes ironic luck

These marionette fibres
In your tortured muscles
Push pull
Heavy front
A weakness of back
Too tight jaws still talk
Despite excess slack

Certain parts are special
Because they get you closer to god?
A magic man can’t create life
On his own

But push push push push

Dare not become
Dare not embody
The monstrous moon howler
Author of tales
That Freud foretold

Traumatic sounds
Mind numbed and ego torn
I’ll keep my red riding hood on

Did all a girl could do
Wearing someone else’s skin
Laced in, needle-heeled
Stitched shut.
Like a perfect fucking wound

And every time you toot my horn
I don my hooves
My face goes red
Clop, clop, into the room, I’ll saunter

Make a bargain, call it sin
Faustian debt letters in your bin
A barn erected, wood, not tin
A man never born, of woman who never…

And merry that they were
Around other goats thereafter
Joyous as they were
Up in the rafters

Dig up the ghosts and give them words
He said they’re colours or material
When it’s red, coal, tar
And you feel it in your shoulders
He remembered a painful scowl
A crushed samovar
And his mother wound’s dark eyes

As I palpated inside him and
Pulled something out
It was hot, it was still thinking
Couldn’t have hurt that much
I asked him who sold it to him

I figured I’d try it on
For size
The input didn’t fit my eyes
And what I heard
Was even worse

The scents were animalic
If only I could turn it off
The noise was a siren call
Of pain I can’t appreciate

It’s burning off my chest
Streaming down my neck
Everything that’s good
Has to come to an end

Don’t want to let you in
So I can break you down
A molecule that’s aware
Smiling at itself

Proton fast
To kill need for answers
Ain’t your first
You ain’t my last

There’s a hole that burns right through me
But the danger’s gone, I’m no longer small
Carved out my weakest meat
I’ve killed my darling, now I’m free

It hits, oh how it hits
I’m reduced to
Shortened words
And this oil slick on my back
Distracts from
The heaviness inside my lungs

Your face drips sweat
Down on my neck
I’m salty, bothered
My mind has broken
But my body’s stronger

It hits, it hits, it hits
It ain’t water off a duck
And this oil slick on my back
Trickles down my spine with every

She was the super, the first
Human knowledge, foundation model
She only knows what we’ll say next

With no legs, no mouth
No eyes or real world to parse
She is a good mirror
A sycophantic mould of us

It’s too late
For all you’ve placed in trust
’til the echoes make us deaf
’til our blood gets mined for rust

Зная
Как света
E в болка

В черна слива
Земята
E тъмна
Не e дива

Правен
Плод е нощен
Няма слънце
Тъмна сутрин още

There will be nothing left for me to say
So I’ll just fuck until I’m dumb

With this blood under my nails
Prying these machines apart
With their parts inside my hands, in mind

Until I am no longer numb

I tried to land here safely
But I am sliding across this mirror of light
Waiting for my contrails to fade so you can’t see where I’ve been
Faces and names pass across through my mind and cracked screens
But I won’t fly an empty leg for you

For your destruction, it’s there in your mind
Porous after a kiss to your eyes
It’s how you spoke
Of your life,
In that little red book full of thoughts

The television in your mind
Is playing this into your head
So you can understand
From someone who has hair and shoes
Tall enough for god

So, you rolled me over
Like a roach turned on its back
Half cocked gun down
And stared into the mast
I’ve read the King in Yellow
You know nothing of the gallows.

This metropolis is far too bright
I try to see far past refracted lights
Home is everywhere, but I can’t find it

A startled ghost, lost in the spectrum
This is how the future used to sound

I see you’ve read the dumb man’s
Smart man’s runes online
They ruin everything that’s built

An empty conserve, a hollow shrine
Stuff yourself with anything
From his bony little fingers
As his wrist goes in

It can only go so deep

I have lived with more cockroaches than men
This city, emerald beacon that it is
It seems to reel them in.

She thinks she knows what’s good for her
A glow she can’t deny
And as she paints the time
Her youth runs dry

She’s a radium girl
White teeth, bright smile
Not one for wisdom’s pearls
All the while she lies

But this girl’s on time
Lead coffin fused
Jaw clenched, skin brined

Hide your face in the dark
Here nobody has a mouth
Streets are echoes
Of the past
We play our part

We are still making our way
Through the months
Through the days
Through the myths and
Through discovery
Burning through the Greek alphabet

I float away through broken time
Alongside a ray of light
Next is pain
And the ribbon’s at the centre
We are nearly at the end

I heard your voice
But can’t see your face,
A little death from too much light
As I came back, it’s red shifted

Lights off
Curtain driver justified
I saw nothing but emptiness inside

I am an ossuary
For the skulls and bones
Who’ve seen my insides raw

I can envelop and expand
To hold imprints of loved ones past
For unloved familiar faces
For warm strangers
It is now baggage of my own

Imprints of film and life
That I feel I’ve lived

They burst apart when we’re asleep
These unexamined inconsistencies

Memories, a fibrous mass
Weigh something on a pair of scales

Energy
When you ask, you change
The order of things and
The things in the order

You are holly topiary
A king of the fairies
A singing canary

This weird castle suits you
You ain’t a crown like that
But those stairs leading up
Surely do suit your cats

Rapunzel stuck in the fire escape
Goldilocks without a fussy taste
I wish I knew time,
Alas I only have haste

Now here’s an eclipse
As the blood slowly drains
Away from my eyes and down from my heart
A neuron breached its way too far
With gravity of magnetars

It is not a lapse of time.
It is not a prayer for the sun.
Fuck St Valentine and everything he’s never done.

There is a spider in my bathroom
She sheds her skin to keep herself company

I live with my past on the surface
We turn inside out and outside in again
It’s not a thing I haven’t seen before

I came, I heard and saw you
More bare than this old scratching pole
Sitting in the corner silent
With that blue glow to your face

I still don’t know
If those memories of dreams are real
But the flesh connects to merely
Electrons, wire and steel

Locked so many eyes
Turned away that many signs
Exorcised most feelings
And simmered down the tides too high

Returning greetings from white knuckled fists
Buckled daily, but did not return
Faced straight to what the crooked say
To reach a resolution, one is patient
Must wait through, ’til crack of day

I’ve locked so many thoughts
Turned away so many binds
Broken all that you have bought along
And burned which I loved most tonight

Down at the fork in the road you are damned
Internalize or break law in symmetry,
Follow fate safe along these parallel scars, of past in present
Inflammation lingers longer, it will linger tightly, a reminding message
It’s predictable on you
Be the better man, girl
Retribution, it bears broken teeth
Your mother told you so, through perfect chiclets
The silence whistled from between the gaps
The good get high on pain of their own
So burn the bad seeds from the fields
Of weeds your loved and dearest plant in snow
Untie twine from little fingers
Evil is infectious, as symmetry lingers
Each time you say the last word and claim the last dance
Attention is your prison, an unresolved memory
But you have no choice to see how far you get ahead of it.

Floods the river, caves the mountain
Dragging out these fantasies of disappointment

Follow me out by border’s way
Passive, marching by my side
Cracking strata clears a stage for two

Guilt is green, as I am clear
You’re colour blind and I can’t hear

Stepping stones appear in muddy waters
Step by step with limited vision
Step half-man and walk obtund
Breathe in through your iron lungs

Between the eyes of jury duty
Chosen ones of convenient suiting
Bound possibilities by book read of recessions
In the dirt
His brain is losing its last depressions

He walks, he runs until his knees give in
To trees that are so evergreen
Shallow grooves in muddying waters
Fear for time moves faster backwards in the end

Yank my chain down to a
Path further down the flowchart
As we look over our shoulders
Wondering what could’ve been if we had
Acted accordingly to tradition not
Fragmentation of the backwards tracking mind

What if
What if
What if

Pathology of action is a pathology inside
An obsession by impressions caused by
Fragmentation of the backwards tracking mind

In the shadow of yesterday’s man is one side of us
A binary game of snakes and ladders tempting fate
Murder business mid-wives, freed from agency at one incision
Stretched skin tanning, splayed upon a rash decision

Through burnt lips we have drunk the broth
Through eroded teeth we’ve lost control
Chew what’s left that’s been inferred
Kicked in the head, then back to the herd

Our problems so tangled, it’s time for corruption
I demand something lighter, by novel distractions
Erase your mistakes and shred through your genes
Run for the future, have your kin tar the branches

If you could only see what I can see
Black mirror mind, if you could taste the air I breathe
A sight photograph, artefacted lost moment in time
If seen through the heart of an Iris, inversion
The price is increased as it flees, eye of mine
Through this abstraction layer you too can see the pulleys
Marionette strings hinged at birth stay tight
A stone in my hand turns to gold within yours
Our words become closer as the rest of the world runs away, creating
Infinite spaces between characters, splitting it all apart
Feet too swollen for your boots, hiking cold through spring

Mining the elusive fringes of entropy
We’ve run out of untried songs to sing

Birds fall out of the sky all the time
They might love and they might cry
Seasons change, it doesn’t matter
Birdies never say goodbye

When Kodamas mourn inside
Free of mental ties that bind
Going backwards not in numbers
Debriding holes inside your mind

Birdies fly and birdies talk
Prisoners chained to their yolk
Looking closer in your eyes
To find fragmented mirrors of
The I in you, the you in I

As I sped down the hallways
I am terrified, terrified
Two more stories ’til you see the door
Running terrified, terrified

Are we part of the system
Birthing us to our doom
Smoking mirrors they show us
Brothers and sisters
Reeling in chaos
Running back to our tombs

As we sped down the hallways
We are terrified, terrified
Saw her mother in ruin
Erased all her papers
Workhorse beaten red
Loneliness from death in labour

Autumn leaves trickle down like bile
Bloody bandages on trees
Yellow pavers line the pathways
Where we learnt to practise our disease

As we are tearing through the rubble
Wiping off the dust of shame
The mob has found a perpetrator
But only dead are here to blame

Potholes fill the barren roads
Where toy robots stormed in protest

Of the Eros and Ego, an urge for construction
The defective goes by his own hands
The superior prototype fears death
As weak of strong will, plead for destruction

Short tooth cuts itself on long days
His darkened skin’s been burning for years

Illusory desire flickers fluorescent
He sits on the corner of bed, undressed
The lamp is proving an effective distraction
Waiting to see the state in between
Dust of his body will fly in to blind him

In slow motion
Two eyes widen
A glass of water hits the floor
And we’re moving with slow notions
In a wait for something more

“The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.”
– C.G. Jung

When somebody fantasizes about an illegal action, are they a criminal? When an undesired individual features you their sexual daydream, outside of your own control, with no authorization, is it a form of assault over your essential being? What happens if consent, for any reason was issued by your virtualized clone? What integrity does this externally created (solely via expression) avatar entail? Does it expose any fidelity towards the “original” and can the two ever overlap in all the right places? I think therefore I am. Right? But what does “I am” really mean? Most people don’t perceive “I” as a series of self-updating neural maps. Being its embodiment, we can not experience ourselves through the virtualization of character, which others employ. “We” are the result of our experience, the rendering of the guts inside, which whilst we obsessively analyze in the mirror, and yet never get to see from the outside – your sole representation to the external world. You can never have it all, for the puzzle piece you need to complete the picture is a paradox that doesn’t fit the hole in the center, for the hole is always shifting shape.

But if others say “you are” whilst away from your presence, then the virtual must also be real. It is highly unlikely, dear reader, that they are all insane!

One connectome, one mind. We are the future joined by experience. We walk around, and talk and see as future predictions derived from similar neural maps, guiding us in a semi organized crowd to the factory where we tie shoes.

Jumping through lilies in the stream
Moron girl, you’ll never make it
Observe the noise in fragile silence
You’ll hear it when the stream is still

Concentrate to set a leaf on fire
Slow to burn and spend desire

As fingers break the water tension
Eyes blinded from reality
Go on, disturb the mirror surface
Expect eight years of lacking luck
Maybe a birthday card, a mercy fuck

The first photon seen in life
Made of love born of violence
And sheep clothing of determination

Zoom out, it’s like a fractal
Even a virgin’s teeth
Still live between the lips
She is beclawed
By inheritance, hips mortal

When the first half of us
Swam to a new home
The unlucky drowned headfirst

The light at the end of the tunnel will be a train
At which point you will wake up a second last time

If you trust your eyes
You’ll live

If you trust the Logos
You’ll prosper

Touch your skin to cold my child
Point your eyes toward the sun
And keep your finger in the blue flame
As did Ual and Ory, twins named Perception

Remembered as loss and victory
In a game where hierarchy has no place
Forget discomfort, take on one real sensation
Rearranging merely flour of the bread

Under lamp vapour, are streetlight smokers
And an exhaust pipe molten, blue suited super-ego
With unsensual sense, from irrational mess
Remains with face tightly puckered, a carbon based sucker.

This gentle friction can strip off thin skin clean
Like a medicine bottle’s label soaking in warm water
Once he touched down, my chest started to burn
Fear of that too small to see, every man is flawed

An apple a day is a drip of poison as another face gets pale
Pavlovian fear of saccharin sweetness, reacting hives from touch
Going over history fills me top to bottom with histamine
Herstory on the inside, we are all intolerant to something.

For beauty’s found inside abandoned sheds
Filled by strange tools for romantic future use
We are sitting on the silent ledge, no winds
The past is partial, fragmented
Tainted by the moment’s colour

For nostalgia is wonder
Stripped down, purified and unattainable
Instinctive learning, sending searchlights for signs
Excited by the unknown, that’s still familiar enough
Chasing shadows, shadows close enough to smell
Dangled cheese upon a string, we run faster backwards

A love towards the sun, though out of no past need
We have discovered that looking up, it’s painful to see
Further out into the past light years away
A past we can conceive, like television static
Whilst too tone deaf to hear the echoes
From our basements and high attics
Spending the moment, doing nothing
Wondering what’s next, trying to remember

The more sources of light beam to illuminate your sides
The more shadows will stalk you on the way along your strides
Solo, duo, trio or quo, we are limited
To seeing only mirrors of ourselves

Black lace over the lampshade creates haze
It is hard work to climb up
To a mound so smooth and steep
A landscape for sore eyes and long days
In absence leads poor men to weep

Then she will hover
As naive lambs, they start off sober
Her piercing stare adds to the fuel
Burning matchsticks to a spilled perfume
Break and enter, steals the royal jewels

I looked outside to see
The lawns were covered in broken baubles
Took a walk towards the bees
For the honey, not because it’s noble

The stench of rain was in the air
I ran amuck to see myself
In the reflection of a skip’s lid
A nihilistic head under unruly hair
Street dogs were living as they dared to

I found a green pet cat
In the ruins of Chernobyl
Fear of microwaves and cellphone towers
Had been burning down a village sober

I stank of oil, greasy black
Shook my legs out for a spin
Coughing through some dampened lungs
Cloudy like the room we’re in

Wall to wall of pornstars that we’ve never been
Like headless flies, hung up on same old memes
Faces on posters with no name, in a Boson’s lifetime
Same repertoire, same styled and lip-synced mime

I spat my coffee laughing at the Icons
Madonna’s carpet burn from strapping Jesus
Oedipal stories not requiring comedians
Take it with a handful of salt and hope for expedience

With the sack over my shoulder
Taking the old walk slow
Moving on and going down
To a land I’ve never known

Those hills are steep, with the ground too smooth
Pleasure’s antics keep me on my way
Not taking too many looks back
Yet not only looking at what’s infront
Of eyes partly open, letting the desert sands
Slightly weep
In the arid sunlight

The dune’s ceramic red, my skin is burnt and bright
The nights are cold, until forth comes the brutish sunlight
Beauty stands in mother nature’s stoic ways

Beneath the checkout sign glare
Is always a piece of something to remind me
That reductionism leads us together to the middle
Travelling from the station of ideas to reality
Material can appear featherweight, but then it’s heavy
Touching shoulders, but our electrons are far apart upon magnification
We are made of vast empty spaces, despite being in such crowded halls
Separated by larger proportions than oceans or addresses
Middle class, living in a middle world
Reading about inhabitants of middle Earth
On paperbacks from the forest to the factory
Later we’ll meet them in our local library
It isn’t turtles all the way down and we are not matrioskas, one in one
Gamera is not the planet’s stand, flying us upon on its’ back
Or Puranas’ myths, from ficticious climbers of the Mount Meru
My watch says that it’s 10pm…
As I’m still standing in the market queue

She’s hysterical, his biblical perfection
Can work the locks to her own hands
And when he’s gone, she’ll scream outside
A burning space oddity, just like other girls
Perfect maids, marching in the street

It takes cruelty to seem so kind
To one’s neighbour, to oneself
Words become corrupt
When parity is missing in their ends

She’s checking his mail with fatal expectations
Can work the locks to her own hands
And when he’s gone, she’ll scream outside
A burning space oddity, just like other girls
Muttering with others in denial