Wednesday 18 April 2012

EASTER JOHNNY RISEN IN RAIN

The shit I shat
Was black as shit
Because
Of all the wine

                                 Johnny A13


because of Life,
of Time,
Human Actions,
The Big Wheel and The Great Parade,
Johnny is a different man now
drinking different beer now
on another sofa.

Easter in Basildon Newtown
and a festival beam cuts thru all the thin cloud
Johnny watches it outside smoking
a light searching
shining,
stroking the crocodile ceiling
and council flats

Johnny’s deep in a Madams sofa
a soft giving home, like tits are
his feet are as high up as his head is
and next door
there’re playing cards with more than a full deck each
banging drums out loud and tribal
thru paper walls

and Johnny,
its 3 times you gone to Basildon today!
what the fuck Johnny?
you’re chasing hatchbacks over the blacktop
you’re rolling, racing roughshod
round all the roundabouts like a cock
Mr A13
  
Johnny still cannot believe it
cannot believe yesterdays bar girl was young as a catten
you stared at her didn’t you, Johnny?
at her face and at her jeans
but you never feel old, do you Johnny?
not in that wooden bar
where the girls are serving and young as cattens

and Johnny, Love probably dwells here
all alive, a wood-panelled desperate soapy dalliance
like someone else’s pet that’s drunk and out of control
but its just a dinosaurus
the cheapest carrier bag
a Hungry Vision of the Ego!
and Johnny, the walls exploding now

so Johnny,
the rivers run dark around us
fat with silver fish and brown with black soil
and MEMORIES, the Second Nightmare
are only 10 feet away
and you want to hold her foot like a slice of watermelon 
and bite at it gently hard

and the rugs are laid out all different now
because of the Imperial Cause
a dark underbelly that should be delicate now
but it cracked open the massive floor
and Johnny, you’re 7 floors up now
immediately drinking
a crystal cold beer

Johnny, that evening was cold
that evening was nice - she laughed Johnny!
but you had only beer,
and all the children were upstairs sleeping, Johnny
that’s amazing!
that
and that you didn’t cry

Johnny walked London street,
soggy, vague,
hungry, waiting,
under a bridge with office refugees
who don’t like anything,
Thames, churning river of gangsters charges out to sea
and Johnny, he walks in the gentle clay gray rain

your bubble is tense, Johnny, its skin too thin
you shore it up with empties, Johnny,
like the cold heat of war boiling within
we know you’re all or nothing Johnny
alone in the gentle clay gray rain
something or anything Johnny?
your coat is too small

the dark Johnny, the full moon that’s its eye
clouds of frozen surf hang static over the house Johnny,
lit like a den
The MUSIC Johnny, The MUSIC
a tourniquet that eases the flood to a flow
and dreams Johnny, shallow nights birth real demons
to stalk you all of the day

and Johnny, the days dull light!
horrible mornings hideous and empty
we know you’re in the corner shop, Johnny
or having another bath again
or sitting, just sitting still Johnny
wearing a coat and hat; take them off Johnny,
you’re here for the weekend

she’s comfortable Johnny
bare feet up off a new wood floor
she’s in a new house Johnny
with new hair
that grows on you Johnny
grows round her face
her feet are bare Johnny, and still
like sweet and stupid hands

you want to touch them Johnny
hold them with both hands
hold them like presents, like fleshy fruit
eat them with your tongue and your teeth Johnny
the meaty treats of toes
but you’re 10 feet across the room Johnny
your hands with just a bottle to stroke
  
its CRAZY! you cry out Johnny, all HISTORY is CRAZY!
he is undone overwhelmed uninspired
by Enormous Wheels, dizzy of Great Circles
Aaaah! you cry Johnny
because of it ALL . . .
outside the beam strikes a line straight up
to the empty moon, an exiled ladies eye

it’s a weird and difficult back seat journey Johnny
to Random Hell, that strange Red Meat Heaven
and Johnny
we know about the riotous solitude
where everything is rubbish the first time around
and you just watch there for the green rain Johnny,
when you can

you hate to leave her there Johnny,
but we know you love to go away
and you cant stay the way you want to Johnny
or steal her home
and Johnny, we know you could look at her
all the day
sit there sideways in the front of her car
drinking her driving face in like its booze

Johnny, your hands are flapping helpless
but appearing really still
they’re mad to grab her Johnny
find and feel her endless face and retard feet
but you’re one sofa over Johnny, a sofa too far
deep in some ridiculous DRAMA
10 feet away

Johnny we know you wail
scream like baby
but you keep the worlds
emptiest diary
its down there dusty on the carpet
prone and penitent in the gas fires awe
the first subject of the King of Recent Myth
  
and Johnny, honey, we know you want to say Things
urgently but in a dream
where steaks deliver themselves
and she wears everything you’ve ever seen
and Johnny, your new beds nearly known only you
but your sofa
has a different story to tell

so Johnny, go prepare yourself for the night
tho its after 3 am
go have some odd morning lie in
that’s more sick and hiding
than actual human sleep
let the shallow dreams burp their awful accidents Johnny,
let them pepper the real day red

Johnny, take on that bed!
and
fly in driven slumber
till noon
NOON at least Johnny,
noon tomorrow
noon the next waiting day


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