Twitterings

December 16, 2004

Polished Dust

polished the dust for the umpteenth week

stripped and waxed the aspidistras

rifled through pocket fluff for promises

found none and was disappointed to

have the sad ears ripped right out of my best jeans

a strange lie masks the strangled invective bleat

garbled across the dreaded centre stage

hard-done-by tales of tired old Jones mouthed as

stagnant pond water pours at bound feet

from the pissing fawning vultures

the clever knot tightens with each struggling second

round a tight white calf lassoed and hauled

- quick pour the burning shampoo in its eyes

animal testing is never the problem

it’s stumbling around the cure that causes untold distress

as you charge on to the bloodiest of all Corridas

with bankrupt stubby quickened fingers

fountain pen spears like feathered banderillas

protrude and yet I stand here cold unaffected

always brighter than any version of you

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