The protein from lips full on and the feel of textiles from Mali
Allowed the whisky to cauterize my throat without sensation, but
The oesophagus was warmed knowingly...sleep followed
By sweet cider is a first, a hop, skip and a jump is
On the contrary, never to be attempted
The business here is leisure, purely so that we laugh
Simultaneously at the intentionally-bad-hair day, an image
That is reminiscent of a workplace problem with
Pigeons, work...huh
Are you free today, to dwell on the loss of the
Burgenland?
Are you free today?
Free from the dust, the xanthous stains of laziness and the
Bravery that takes you to that aimless abyss?
If so, come join me, now I can at last share the feeling
Of ignition proper
Be snatched up, well my Dear
Inundated I 'aint...for every morning
I take a picture from this corner, it is true
That plans made for bank holidays are determined
High above the Atlantic and those brooding skies
Are all too soon back in the bloodstream
Their brief absence is as unnatural as poppies in
The millenium...as the emotional connection between
Ossies and Wessies
This is all down to the miserable sentiments of a lazy
Painter and the pestering for state benefits by
A young, as yet unknown, bully
The prolific smoker speaks of an
Exhibition of trees...such beauty
Let him feel the full force of steel toe-caps...all in
Good time...for now I search for a job point, whatever
That may be and I walk on risky, risky ground under
The half-light of an acne-blessed sun
While I try to
Make sense of this...the trees of the forest on
Seeing the axeman approach with his axe notice
The handle and whisper to each other...it's one of our
Own...we use to laugh and talk about silly things, things
Irrelevent to others like the smell of armpits and the dying
Of mice in our very midst
A duo they were...bless 'em
They knew nothing of me
They knew nothing of how it felt to get lost
In a karst landscape
We saw rags and we saw 'owt and we saw
Re-planted olive trees but could not get our heads
Around the latter