21 October 2011
08 October 2011
hey draft
hey
its not even fucking January
but i smashed out
a million words already
planted them like little trees
in the ferocious dirt
like acacia acumulata
seedlings, hosts for
the sandalwood
deep and little more
than a bootlength apart
in the thick wet strings of mounds
or the depth of scalps
traversing paddock contours
green sticker swathe struttin
walkin on bones
but betting each other
on rhythmic mist
crazy fuck bows
and cocaine double rainbows
not uncommon triple bows
and in moonlit circles
we roll the barest of joints
cigarettes in the last order
for the actual
this is alpha actual
we have lost contact...
carry on
over
occupy
the entire sky
the swirl of new stars
and stupid clouds
and its not the first time
not the first time
i remembered you
your wet flesh on mine
as the rain spelt our names
on rooves, your voice
bouncing across
this impossible suburb
the time we stole
the Christmas carol
banner with our only
anarchist friend
on the way back from
the bottle shop
with the second carton
this time
not emu fucking export
and i thought
thats what you drank
he said
i don’t drink export
never have but
its wet
its fizzy
and full fucking strength
and we discuss pedantica
the new school getting franticer
and franticer...
its not even fucking January
but i smashed out
a million words already
planted them like little trees
in the ferocious dirt
like acacia acumulata
seedlings, hosts for
the sandalwood
deep and little more
than a bootlength apart
in the thick wet strings of mounds
or the depth of scalps
traversing paddock contours
green sticker swathe struttin
walkin on bones
but betting each other
on rhythmic mist
crazy fuck bows
and cocaine double rainbows
not uncommon triple bows
and in moonlit circles
we roll the barest of joints
cigarettes in the last order
for the actual
this is alpha actual
we have lost contact...
carry on
over
occupy
the entire sky
the swirl of new stars
and stupid clouds
and its not the first time
not the first time
i remembered you
your wet flesh on mine
as the rain spelt our names
on rooves, your voice
bouncing across
this impossible suburb
the time we stole
the Christmas carol
banner with our only
anarchist friend
on the way back from
the bottle shop
with the second carton
this time
not emu fucking export
and i thought
thats what you drank
he said
i don’t drink export
never have but
its wet
its fizzy
and full fucking strength
and we discuss pedantica
the new school getting franticer
and franticer...
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