float

the clouds clamping down tightly around the raging sea
an energy so realistic as the layers swing like sequins winking beneath the fire
of a once grand chandelier
take an axe to the belly of your boat and I hope you can’t swim I hope you don’t float

let’s rendezvous come the length of noon at whichever horizon we happen to reach
first and then play who can stay weightless the longest
as we pass the burden born from the deepness of nowhere in a cyclical motion the
only warm place left lies at the bottom of an escalator
does it seem we’ve forgotten how to offer ourselves? Descending further and further
into nicotine tanned chests
rush for a heaven hanged by the emergency red cable swaying in the breeze through
the poorly insulated woodchip walling
teen helpline call centre switchboards flicker violently ruby red like christmases gone
wrong ever further
one can hardly see above the parcels, puss and puppy fat we rap our moisturised
murderous mitts around thirstily
poor perfect me long lost in a flaky portrait
the disturbing depths of an oil drenched surface thick and ridiculing anything that
scrapes across the foreground

varnish the vantage point a rosy wash whatever the cost it’s worth sitting behind
buildings
speckled beige and rain eroded
this wireless intrudes yet again

obnoxious, self suppressive screaming stubbled jaw line mind the step and head butt
the low beam bridging the pillars of the palace
the moat flows slowly around the mound of melting plastic romances,
vital figures and head shots
mythical magnets enticing moulded plates of tin dented in a peculiarly pretty pattern
huddled and holding hands around a dusty dry keg we stayed there squabbling and
still awaiting orders from a pill infested and unhealthily over weight absent apparent
maker
an eyebrow raising situation of love if ever one came rolling our way clean swiping
heads from thin and tired shoulders

protruding through last-seasons essentials this is the coldest I’ve been since rising up
and climbing off the empty side of the lushes leaves we lied entwined upon kind of
like blind lovers might do in an old bronzed novel

the unnerving silence clings like bile
to the inclining sides of the city gates

take an axe to the belly of your boat and I hope you can’t swim I hope you don’t float