Old men’s tales:
Parable of the fox and the hare
Six different ways to dispose of your time:
Garbage; Keep-fit; Google seances.
Recycle your lager cans.
The undoing of a face
Unlocked with bad words.
Password to your heart
Riddled with capital letters and
The name of your first pet.
A ten minute walk just to
The back of a queue replete
With 10,000 out of work fiends
Ghouls with fanged teeth,
That kind of thing.
The new boys
Exercise sovereignty via Wii and PS3,
Marry each others’ sisters and then their neices.
These spectres have been laid off from life.
Homo suburbus more afraid of not getting
Exactly what he wants. No noise.
Don’t you touch my hand-held accessory!
Rattles and cuddly toys for adult girls and boys.
“But the strange thing is
This phone defines exactly what desire is.”
Windows of infinity
Inscrutability of sand
Nature-fertility mystery cults
Gin, telephone kebabs,
Fresh crisp green tree.
Could never trust him.
Neurones scutter with four thousand
So many ways to police your time effectively:
Dynamic, motivated, sticky-tooth-smile.
Sex banks debarred
By codes of binary.
The most redundant text I ever read:
“I am not real
this is a dream.
Make love to the stars//
In a stolen motorcar.”
The streets are teeming with wild animals.
False pride and pride falsely proposed,
As oldly distant as underage films
A certain look in the eye
Still ravages the mind.