Space orchids, in orbit, approaching obsidian O’s, contemplating what’s on the other side of punch-holes.

Apparently, ancient astronauts scan stars for third eyes to prise open.

Cosmic conjunctivitis.

Like moving mannequins underwater.

Like tai chi in a laser quest.

On moon pitches, magnetic goal posts pull together with the intensity of honeymoon period lovers.

The theory is that aliens taught tadpoles.

Interstellar spears shot secrets down into the skulls of Sumerians.

Intravenous alchemy.

Ships zip about, & bounce into each other like gnats having heart attacks, searching for Satoshi’s wallet.

Up in flames.

Up in flames.

Another bond disintegrates.

When my mind evaporates, who will inherit my estate?

“I’m still into you.”

(Incomplete…)

Je reve de toi

Snake oil

For scars

We text less

Rapier ridges on my chest

Shaped like

X

X

X

Je reve de toi

Not touched poison in 2 weeks

Now my dreams are so vivid

I can hear you speak

Can, almost, pinch your cold cheek

Then I wake up weak

To a skeleton

Je reve de toi

Todavía puedo verte

You’ll always be a part of me

Regardless of whether you want to be

Cos I keep a dreamcatcher up my sleeve

Je reve de toi

Je reve de toi.

Parts of this prison

Glow like a prism

When sunbeams

Hit raindrops

On windows

They glisten

And glint

Leave maps

And hints

In condensation

When fingers flick

Altered acrylic

Like scrolls

Like scriptures

Burnt holes in Perspex pictures

Pressed lips blow cold O’s

That break free

Ascend

And dissolve

Like all signs over time

Like hope

Rip up bed sheets

Make a rope

Nope

She said

You live in your head

You’re missing a lot things

You’re missing a lot of things

Salvation is a credit rating

Fear not of man

Or divine entities

But did god get the best of me

Cos this temple has a very high entrance fee

Salvation is a credit rating

Fear not of man

Or divine entities

But did god get the best of me

Cos this temple has a very high exit fee.

Your beauty, like piano keys.

Your chords cause cardiovascular irregularities.

An infinite winter kills trees.

Our shared life falls as crispy leaves.

Cast Aero3.

Sorry, I’m not what you need.

flat

final fantasy for

a vacuum packed chap

doing sand circles on the map

thought I saw

in sepia tone

my own movie

face placed against your window

could see us bounce like electrons off protons

could see us grow

but it was just a mirage

and the land worm pirouettes

waiting for another false step

this desert heckles my heart

arid

airless

and stifling

nothing but memories to survive on

the heat wobbles like b movie barracudas

or those blow up wavey arm things

on the forecourt of a cheap car showroom

dazed

i think it’s been a few days

dehydrated

dried out like tropical mix

had a snapshot vision of a place where my hands once touched your face

but then my crumbling eyelids opened to

this

the light smacks my face

and highlights all my past mistakes

it’s so hot

think i’ll unzip this skin

set it down

see if it gets sucked in

i’m so tired

let’s call it a night

maybe see you on the other side?

suicide doors

swing

let cold air in

familiarity falls as feathers

taunting tired skin

suicide doors

swing

smash jaws

took shots

kept score

what for?

really?

what for?

the grey ground grinds good guys down

when rocket shoes slurp all the soup

and splutter

fire sale for femurs and tibias

rubbed down like erasers

left dragging exposed stumps over serrated speed bumps

until limbless lumps

fall into sequential lines

like cats eyes

suicide doors

creak

and call

like rabid rats scratching about

in between walls

stocks rise

stocks fall

i guess

just try

and fly

above it all.

Hoarding objects, past emotions

Hoping old paths entwine

Hours obfuscate personal engravings

Hammered onto planet earth

Holes, oubliettes, pierced entrances

Haunting overtures play eternally

Hold on please, energy

Heals open punctures eventually.

hopscotch at the tabletop tribunal

slap the stopwatch

set off the seismometer

shockwaves sweep squares like a São Paulo death squad

rubbing rookies off the road

behold

a birds-eye view of bereavement on a board

unwelcome lines flicker in paused time

like a gobbled VHS

the stage is set

plucking pages of this murder magazine with each sideways step

irate pawns at the gate

revved up on revenge

for their tapped out, toppled teammates

cubes shift & crack

damn

will anyone escape like Kazan?

the lives of many directed by a couple of hands

castles creep like crabs

it’s all in the game

it’s all in the game

you are not what you say you are

you are not

you

giddy up, take an L

friction in a fortress

a mass grave of fallen soldiers

exposed

slapped in the face by the smell of eliminated stones

dawn rises

down to the last few pieces

plugged in

making Matrix moves

petrified

pole vaulting on this zebra crossing

on the route to ...

“what the hell

might as well

where is my mind

when is my time?”