One starry night a month ago
An umbilical fibre stubbed my toe
I chanced upon this cord pulled tight
Shiny and dancing yet very light

It came from a dark and handsome
Man whose talent is feted throughout the land
His words are revered in soft applause
But another abides behind his closed doors

Hiding behind a spurious mask which is sniffed at and sidelined, left-over and last
This foppish fool seeks only your eyes
And bathes in your favour and swims in his lies

Here lies someone
Absent be thy name
and November comes
their job is done
and indeed they are in heaven.

Who are you?
I wish to thank you for all you have done
for the place you have left for me
By leaving yourself

What is your name?
Are you the weeds that live
Where you once lay?
The courage in the dandelion
or the strength in the grass ?

The Real Walking Dead

We are living among the dead yet they don't know it yet
Through darkened tunnels of logical persuasion with evil minds that plug
The destructive measure of mankind having eyes yet not seeing
In a shade of blackened features with the strong stench of death

A horrible moment in time with riots in our street
Through protests & the urge to be heard
The real walking dead having viscous fangs that bite with fright
In black gallows leaching through the desolate corridor

"the world is melting beneath us"
slumped in a chair
cigarette dangling
smoke coiling up past the unshaded
bare obnoxious bulb
Lean over..
"Brine and Bollocks Baby!" I grin
and take another slug of gin
from the battered gentlemans
pocket tin...

Poking her french manicure nails
hair hanging to the carpet
rocking on crossed legs
the little screen glowing
ear bud in one ear
the other dangling