Wednesday 27 August 2008

Old Man

Coils of rope used for long-line fishingImage via Wikipedia 10/02/1999

Lungs like lesioned leather

Sopping with tar juice cocktail
Kidneys like dry boiled tatties
Small, knotted and mean.

Constant pain
'Ingroan toenail
Cause d'i pain'.
Back got back for years of use

Multiplying combinations
Kill the active soul.
The brain in rain
Washes down the drain
Say good bye to Annie
Little orphan Annie.

Nocturnal 'no'.
Abstract daytime darkness
Blind from high grade alcohol

Skitters in the skids
And the flutter of the valves;
Sailor knotted rope and vines
Climb the legling mountain range.

Smelling parts that will not quite
Be stinkless, but for other smells
They manufacture by the tonne.

Teethplink out and plastic in
Glassy night times
Crush plip the contact
And lose in the carpet
Until the glasses
Are easier to find
On the rope
Round the string thing
Your neck has become.

Stringy chicken
Wanting rooster and pie
And
Time…

...to breathe a thousand
New experiences
To live a thousand lifetimes more
To conquer all the armies and battalions of
all repressive feelings that held you back
when all you ever asked for
was something more than poor.

So you tread the well worn carpet
and use the careworn phrase
and both your eyes keep seeing
things that are not there.

Panic. Panic. Worry.
Forget to cry just one more tear;
you know your near to going,
you know you should, just once,
love with earnest passion and
dishonourable intent.
Break a law of mankind.
Move when they say still.
Gain when each has lost
but you will ever be just sane.

Old words
new words
begin to sound alike
telephone numbered memories
subcutaneous fat
storage for the lean, hard empty
that becomes the shrine
bhudistic nonconformity
right livelihood and mind.
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