Wednesday 10 April 2013

DARK THOUGHT DRAMA



limping bloody in sportswear from an M5 wreck
cctv caught 
and
carrying a saved baby in a petrol blanket
or
taking bullets in the leg from a raisin hopeful
still i tripped him down the lift shaft
to cheers and medals
but i wont shake prince phillips hand!
or a
white wide cool scar slashed by a knife mad drunk
tabloid immortalised cos he was in a soap
or
a
footballer
or
a
reality tv mug

or just a lonely-warm one-tear deathbed goodbye . . . 

any rainbow unicorns squashed by alien space marines

dark thoughts come like clock chimes 
from the blank of the bland lands
or
when i wail at the night fucked up on back lanes
lost to wonder under the asking trees
or booze blind 
before dawn in my favourite chair
and
still going strong playing nosebleed white noise music
and
chaining cocktail reefer

noticed now, the need for dark drama might fade
in the heart glow
of
the pretty light watching me sleep 
and
saying
all the Right Things 
in 
the 
days empty night



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