Memory

‘O my townspeople!’ —

O!

All Love does is unearth these things that are Verboten

No?

A gun in a velvet Glove that went off in your hands

And with piss and shit and sweat and blood we

Continue, click, c-lick, cli-ck:

You remember what it is, when it washes through you like a  c  i  d,

Challenging you to contain your poisons.

T h e r e ‘s nothing to write: why would there be

When life is lived on the battered cuffs of torn manilla envelopes

and I keep looking at something

[IMAGE;left-align]

like if I look at it long enough

looong enough

[PORTRAIT OF BORED GIRL;right-align]

it will reveal the secret of life?

Oh. Babe.  Why did it take you so long? 

There’s no secret here. 

Just keeping digging with your elfin f i n g e r s

and everyone will lo ve you just fine.

Just keep on with the fingers

and you’ll be fine.

you’re the one

that has to make the m oo v e

didn’t they teach you that in school // didn’t it p r ooo v e

itself as you smoked out the edges of your voice to make it s m oo oo t h

but then you’re back there with a crush you can’t d i s s o l v e

all a l oooo f hissing like a

Solpadeine Max in a goblet

Oh, I’ve stood in the storied, candied splendour of the copper hair

I found in the vacuum cleaner, you left it for me

Like a wreath of gold

‘O my townspeople!’

O!

Out with the window

Out with the crushing Fall

and the leaves, now

as crisped as Islington bruschetta

on their way

to the f l ooo r

I can’t b r r e a t h e no more

 

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