poetry sample z

1. alan
pauline
when you were younger did you dream
of flutter floating river boats and mole and ratty on the stream
did you see hope
in clothes pegs pinging in the base of teapots
or in the thoughtful woven green of scratchy wool
i know i did
in the jam tart crumbs squashed against the edges of the tin
or within the plastic baskets i picked berries in
white fur flashing across the gardened trim
i remember the cold sun air clipping my skin
sucking on a polo mint
dipping my hand in and out of bourbon bucket bubbles
feet pitter pattering round corners
crunching on the sherry soaked rubble
i was innocent
and so is he
and so were you
through and through

2. relations
my family worry about me because they think im too temperamental
i mean obviously theyre right
but in a weird sort of way i feel absolutely nothing when i hear glass cracking down
fumbly wires
voices sliding down slopes
speaking in minor
checking up despite her
tendencies to lack
any strength
or bone in her back
to look after her brain before mine
i thought youre supposed to attach your own mask before you secure somebody
elses
like any parent would do that
thank you for my oxygen
it sure does taste bitter sweet

3. myself
im sitting at the bottom of this cushy sweat pit
and the pillows are so concave that they engulf me till my sides split
im getting so frustrated at trying to sound poetic in an attempt to validate what im sat
in as something more important than what reality shows itself to be
a cesspool
where the desire to hurt blurs itself over with the desire to not
and ive been sat here so long its just become so unbearably hot
its like im comforting myself with the romanticisation of what (?)
achieving nothing
wanting nothing
im just stuck here
and i have no desire to leave
but all the desire thats made up in my head
the static in my brain it chains me to my bed

4. the public
sometimes when im walking in town
i stare at the masses of skin sacks covering clumps of people
swarming to the streets like blue bottled flies to watermelon
and it makes me feel so damn uneasy
my skin hairs prick up into spikes and i feel sick to the stomach at the thought of all
these man made rules and regulations forming these life forms around me
with no blink of an eye or hesitation
i just get this constant jarring juxtaposition in my head
compliance to these rules
caring about tiny stupid things like my makeup my hair my career and how we think
beyonce is so important when in reality all we are is animals and the world is so
overpopulated and claustrophobic and closed up and cupped together like little
strands of grass growing together and over flowing and stale and so fucked up and i
wonder why we are even wearing clothes when in the grand scheme of every lifetime
we are more minute than a spec of dust
and its possible our universe sits itself on somebody elses fingertip
but if i thought like this every day id become more deranged than i already am
so the only way to accept anything is to forget everything
continue focusing on the minute man made details because if you dont sanity turns
you in
you spiral out of control
so i take a drink of whiskey and spend forty five minutes curling my hair with a hot
electronic stick
i draw shapes on my face and stare myself down in the mirror
am i pretty enough to be wanted
am i pretty enough to be real
maybe