ARMAGEDDON BOX (Symbolic violence) Pt. 5

Storm on my cheek, cigarettes and wine for company

Oh we need this cold come again

Whoop whoop! Homi

Dancing young skirts up High sexy & holy

Enter left fantasy

Sans comedie oder tragedie

And words!  Oh fine

Company and the signs,

Sigils for nature’s remedy

Where is my bride, tucked away at

My found home tight, too tight

Alphas & Romeos, no song for you tonight

Competition on the telly, just in case

Folks, just in case you might

Need some tennis, racing, or other shallow

Delight. Fuck off.

Come hither & let me lick you

Wide open.  Give me your creamy insight

some snow on the TV

ARMAGEDDON BOX (Symbolic violence) Pt. 4

Pt. 4

Oh but to exhale

                clear lungs once & for All

                of cheap sex humour tugging

                incessantly & invitingly

                sickly once more, alluring

          in its Purity

Animal my animal must               

                meat your animal unashamed

                bring it & let’s do it finally

                let’s have an affair

                & pray that you don’t tell, that

          no one in this small town has eyes to see

And so, you see I’ve only faint ideas

                of why they always find me:

                mysterious liaisons, non-existent as

                they may be, chronically related to

                my trying so hard & working so hard 

         at this in mind, garden & notebook

ARMAGEDDON BOX (Symbolic violence) Pt.3

Pt. 3

Incite: Minds be blown open wide!

Exhort: Blinds be folded up & dusted clear

Come here!  Sit in my lap & fold your arms round

My newly muscled neck, share if you care

I’m almost mad, take me there?

Or do I go too far.

Do words I have lead me astray.

Does imagination fail me as it holds me upright

Butter on my buns, and I need gumboots

Stop me from slipping or twisting ankle

So energy be ready for tapping

New designs, new fortune set loose

Quiver full, strings tight.

Nemesis met & shame nearly vanquished

Just this now.  Whiteboards aplenty, stationery

Held, ink dripping from the quill &

Space to be harnessed & gently destroyed

(employed)

Go get rescue none for me.  Need to

Walk this alone: hum bass drum

Come you mofo’s come

Time to refine humour & sense of sanity

Realms gush & pour freely, make a river

So accessible,

Drink from & replenish

Souls hold a banquet please

I want not Home but to walk

This path.  Walk, tread, stare, envision

Dig & rake & remake Love

Heavenly bodies

Addicted to ideas & got this

Way to carve

Spit ‘n sizzle, I live in a Garden

Earthly delights, indeed

Lose speed & torture, breathe in

Total, obliterating Okayness

Sumptuous

Missing

Nothing.

Ready. Bitches be hungry

ARMAGEDDON BOX (Symbolic violence) Pt. 2

Pt.2

Still sit

Here wondering

About all the wondrous women I could

Run away with for the night safe &

Trust hidden away & some taken with

Spirit away & curl up warm & wet

For sweet salvation

Sweet and lovely safe

Warm

Fun & silly passionate & waking

Never-ending, enveloping twisting

Rolling touching

Finding

Gun ships. War. God’s own commandoes

Shoot selves in backs of helicopters

There’s a first time to fire a gun for each guy

Spill beans ‘n guts from army ration tins

Collected on memorabilia walls

Along with bayonets & helmets, cartridges of

Pain despair fear glory & irony.  Wrong

Would I if right now a woman

Should come along