She's just a picture
That's blue-tacked to my wall
Just a figment
In the shadows of the hall
A skulking cobweb
Sucking at my head
Somedays we would stroll
Together, alone
And say our silent words
Till we reached home.
Only we never did
I only dreamed it.

If I ever uttered a word
To her, the mirror would shatter
And only a matter
Of moments turned days
I'd fly to the Andes
You must understand that she's
Irrevocably
Driven me insane.

The light switch is broken
And the bulb's flickered illuminance
Shines down on her face
Smiling with ill-fated permanence
Of that time
That we fled to the beach
Away from the crowds
For our ocean retreat,
Alone beneath the clouds
Only we never did
It seems that it's
Realer than real
And sometimes I think that the
World in my head,
Is where I'd rather be.











A verbal state of dyslexia
Moth-man in the alleyways
The criminals are flaring
Their yellowed teeth in protest
The government
Talks of war and peace
A treatise for dissection
Beneath the looking glass.
And the tides are falling
Down like rain upon the tarmac.
Law and order
Truth and justice
Bargaining tools
For a better existance.
But who funds,
And who runs
Is all in the handshake.







The following is a load of bollocks, read at own risk:


Easier than the voices
They say it is also easier
Than becoming a mote of dust in the storm
Will you be blown or thrown to the dogs?
Disrupt the undeath of your mind
Fly to the poverties of another life
Could you drink the average-mint beverages of the masses
It could be an opportunist's nightmare,
Or a tactless decision,
Dancing in the darkness with a figure in your hand
Till at last the light shall guide you
To another universe
Where the angry peasants sigh
At the electronic discharges thundering
Down from the sky.