wordplay #2
nah baby
get lost
ain’t got nothing
i want
call me hollow
so what
married to money
deadeyes
deadheart
deathstream
don’t support
usury
got a problem
for copies
of a copy
of a dead monarch
married to money
if i did a documentary
on you
you’d be a fly
fighting to move
stuck with other flies
on a strip of glue
screaming about the ‘truth’
while your legs pop loose
1 for the dollars
2 for my pups
everything else
middle finger up
take a running jump
married to money
interactions turned fractions
traded human places
for polymer faces
for polymer cuts
stack it up
stack it up
stuff the mattress
pack the attic
covered in cash
lost every bond i never had
securing the bag
too much to carry
amor fati
bundles of fetti
run through racks
like tracks
out your feelings
out your head
out the red
for the bread
for the bands
until death
married to money
Jamiroquai API | Fentanyl, Forms & False Idols | Comanche Justice
Whoops! Quantum computers ate our future.
Red/blue divide. Waste of time.
Fresh scalps. “You raped our land.”
the interpretation of dreams (aka mayday)
stone in focus
on repeat
letting go
of what might have been
chapters
paragraphs
worm paths in a cenotaph
foot soldiers
through trinkets
through trash
parisian protest bin bags
& tear gas
to the pinpricked falcon hood
can almost taste the truth
through the hole-punched roof
lightsaber in an echo chamber
the eraser
consumed
laser pen vs. balloon
aka the process
aka a story of sliced knees
aka therapy for muscular dystrophy
the ballad of entropy
run to thunder
face the tundra
make peace with transitory beauty
fall to the burning floor
raise open palms
pray for sudan
white noise in the void
throttle losses blue
bury them in a field
firebomb bridges
cut veins
two fingers up
blood as war paint
everything is fucked
aka everything is ok
watch red flow from the ego
watch plasma congeal
is there globes in haemoglobin
or game theory
or api queries
false flags turn scab shields
aka tombstones on heels
practice patience
one step at a time
one action at a time
exiled
but
everything else in front
buckshot wounds like candy runts
leaking hours
leaking months
until time is up
drone in the hex of a honeycomb
fabricate limitations
low vibration imitation of an inpatient
ai
simulation
or a demigod magic isopod
each minute
gostra on a gunship
aka no country for docile men
a coin flip
call it
“do you have any idea… how crazy you are”
come so far
from sega mega drive
lion king days
couldn’t beat scar
call it.
Helicopter Seeds/Life
Samaras
The winged seeds of maple trees
Break free
Spin down
To the floor
Past the Scarface blimp
‘THE WORLD IS YOURS’
Some become Seneca
Some sketch an exfil
With a pencil
Or alcohol
And Advil
Some spend 45 years compressed
At a desk
Spine=Slinky
Slave to the Outlook diary
Slave to the salary
Another casualty in the dead-eye gallery
Crushed by variable rate rape
Never germinate
The attrition of tradition
Turns good seeds bad
Food for mushrooms
Food for feeds
Food for zombies
Oh, pretty please, FATHER TREE
All my beautiful dreams became ‘coulda/woulda/shoulda beens’
Became WASTED! GTA5 scenes
On the Truman screen
Be that as it may
The fact remains
There are 2 universal truths for all helicopter seeds:
1: They fly
2: They fall.
Loss
Been thinking ’bout loss
A lot
Over the last few decimals
Last few dots
Numerals spin like slots
On Ra’s wristwatch
Counting coins in pots
Taste like blood
Taste like aluminium
Look like POGs
3 cheers for what we got
For every ball: dropped
For every heart: stopped
For every wall: hopped
What is, is what’s what
Tha block iz hot
Zombies watch vlogs
Angels turn cogs
Transcending every box
Soar more, StarFox
Circle crops
Leave secret codes in treetops
Quest books, with multiple plots
Thumbed pages, propped
More soul than a whole skate-bowl full of Crocs
Flip your lid, kid
Flip your rock
With the force of a caber toss
Cock your bow
Cock your glock
Shoot your shots
Beautify holes with pretty, sticky gloss
Seminoles don’t roll over
Don’t sign treaties
Don’t call leech-ghoul-pagans boss
Never that
Forever not…
Been thinking ’bout loss
Quite a lot
Been thinking ’bout loss
Quite a lot
Remembering how to play organ
In this abandoned church
Covered in flowers
Covered in fire
Thanking GOD.
It doesn’t matter how slowly you go, as long as you don’t stop.
First name, starts with L
Middle name, ends with L
Surname, ain’t got no L
But might as well
Taking Ls
Facing L
Life, starts with L
Death, ain’t got no L
Unless it’s hell
Then double L
Take that L
Hold that L
Swallow Ls
Tales to tell
Or curl up
In a shell
Shudder
Another
Double L
When gladiators
Emerged from cells
Faced armoured lions
Few prevailed
Claws and canines
Impaled
Left entrails
Like snail trails
But if you fight
Ain’t no L
Hero
Has no L
Legends
Teleport to cornfields
Leaking L juice
Looking pale
Win or fail
L
Love, L
Loss, L
Two sides of an L
Sheer on one
The other has a tail
Turn your head
Like The Exorcist
Snap some bits
Off a crucifix
It makes an L
It’s all just perspective
It’s all just Ls
Ls link as chains
As DNA
Erase eras like the Antonine plague
And from the …
Comes wings
Comes new days
Even when you think an L is done bro
Still have to hold it
Like taking L plates off a Volvo
So roll with the combos
Gauze/glass glove blows
Lacerated
Appreciative
Yup
Ls on Ls on Ls
Face your Ls
Take your Ls
Hold your Ls.
Life, in HD
On first name terms
With a small horse named Bonnie
By the park
She comes when I rattle the fence
Black with a white racing stripe
Hair anklets
And ilvaite eyes
She doesn’t seem to mind
The flies
Drawn to her pretty face
I feed her reduced carrots from Sainsbury’s
(20 pence)
I want to tell Bonnie, that recently, I’ve been questioning whether some of my memories actually came from reality
Or have bled into me
Through weird wires and dreams
Or intravenous icicles
Inception spears in the meat sphere
Basically
Been struggling to separate time and space, like church and state
Multiple mistakes exacerbate my tendency to conflate what’s real and what ain’t
A state
But she don’t wanna hear all that jazz
She just wants what’s in the bag
(So pop the plastic)
To be honest, I’m glad
It’s a waste of air being sad
Long live Bonnie
She’s the best
(Gon’ be aight, gon’ be aight)
X.
i prayed for help a few times, but i think the devil answered
it wasn’t my intention to sleep through another morning/day/weekend/opportunity. i feel terrible heading into monday. again. maybe it’s always been this way.
scratch that, start again.
it wasn’t my intention to sleep through another…
*eye twitch*
*the pages are empty*
i have a list of goals for the year, pinned in the corner of the whiteboard above my desk with small square magnets. i thought that, maybe, some focus would stop the muffled taunts in my head.
+sulfur+
i’ve come a long way. you could say that i have absolutely nothing to worry or complain about anymore. that’s true in some ways. but in all the ways that matter, i’m a complete mess.
i’ve prayed a few times in my life. in 2011, to get on a graduate scheme. at airports. drunk and alone on an abandoned plot of land at 3am. i think they are turning that land into offices now.
i don’t drink anymore. it’s been 103 days.
my asks were ‘small’, and generally, granted. get the job. don’t die in a plane crash. other things i’d rather not go into.
recently i woke up dead. again.
in the background i can hear sparse, slowed piano keys__-___—_
the constant headaches make me go cross-eyed.
i’ve been on my own my whole life. even when i’ve been with others. i can never relax.
xx
i think i’ll give it another go. i’m really not sure how many more goes i have left in me. 1 more at least. for old times’ sake.
i’ll summon something from within, instead of spinning the wheel with an unknown entity.
if/when you pray, don’t make it about you all the time. it’s best to not ask for selfish things from something you can’t see or understand.
there’s a price. and you always pay. 1 way or another.
always.
backwards/forwards
On my knees, staring into the lake, something stares back, but it’s not a reflection of my face. It’s a montage of a failed future in which I didn’t fight to decide my own fate.
Paradaisu
On the diamond escalator with my energy orb, smiling. I’ll leave it at the door.