The crown and a bottle of beer
The pinched edges of a bottle top
A king of alcohol in a glass
Open him up and watch him bleed
The downhill cat curve of Birchfield Street
An old wagon wheel dirt road
A slip road down into Chinatown
For Dockers, sailors and barmaids
From the old awning of stripes above the door
The click of the wooden balls rolling
I left the chocks and I ran
It was always about winning
I ran like a broken dam
Into the darkness brimming
I left home and I ran
It was always about reaching
The trophy line of tape
The done wells and the feting
Running all the while
The fat straight for the quick goal
The quick print into the light
The arrow into the soul
Take a handful of my sun
And form a new one of the mind
In the sky
You and I
The things in the sky
They never die
We will merge on the edge of the universe
Like honey cloud floss that you can hold
And a soul come out of a soul
Throw it into the sky
Into a peace dove eye
Flab is bad for the bone
Flab is bad for dancing
Flab is wearily alone
Flab is not life enhancing
Flab sits with depression on a bed of nails
They cannot talk
Depression makes tension
Flab goes mad
I don’t know why
Animals have to die
Why they die
All over the world
It should be done by now
Animals and people
Living together
in one world
Instead,
they were chased away
And turned into gravy
By the united hate navy
Jehovah said to Immanuel
Let’s make a Coker spaniel
The dog went woof
The cat flew off
Said God
Maybe we should switch it to manual
12th March 2021
