ceiling whacks
sin city
bad times
catching a dirty little train back to yer hovel in the sticks
nibbling grimy biscuit as you watch the miss nsw pageant
toggling backwards n forwards between 2 points on the griddle
fuck! youve burnt yer fingers on the faux flames
jesus! that packet of neuroweb cost 300 fucking bucks
watch out! an avalanche of scrambly bugs
moon still glows out the flue
tremors reaching into the vast interior of your pasts
quickmetal fatiguing faster than you can watch it
yer wife irons yer sox
one for me
one for you
some stupid machine you bought cheap dont work
your lulu has been gazetted
that little bloody bastard nero drake
hes diddled me outta my bonus questions
they were gonna gift ya a gift
you attended a lifestyle seminar in chalky vale
where you learnt auto response and angle management
the rain starts up again
oh god my feet so cold now
my stomach so empty
i’m shaking uncontrollably
someone sitting behind you its linda b
she picks at your head
wow your brains are tiny she exclaims
what does it say on the meter?
what happens if you lose the ticket?
the windows rattle and the drafts penetrate deftly
words rolling off my back like feathers
suddenly everything slows down becomes soft n intense
a woman lying on her stomach on the bed
in the red light her pink skin glows electric white
hit me baby she murmurs sleepily
the pub across the road turns off its grog
the cops bust an honest joe and he goes down quiet
the soda jerks and the bar flies away
i piece together history from u-tube tutorials
hey did you know alexander the great pretender return to sender
hey i learnt that ancient rome had 23 different words for empire
hey i learnt that plate is the capital of china
finally something packs it in
and the world drops out of the sky
i shoulda known it
more personal grief
the boom has bust