Another World


Pretending To Be

The division of logic cut by turtles
threw a shotgun into the frenzied crowds
who were chewing upon each other from the brutal heat
that savagely raped every pore of their bodies
this was the same spring heat that forces chairs to shed their chalky flesh
in an attempt to save themselves the pain of being alive
but I'm not complaining
I knew this was a kamikaze trip from the beginning
the remnants of a feverish brain timelessly on it's back
searching for a direction
perhaps I'll become a saint
and stand on the dusty street corner
appraising half an arm
or take a ride on the carrousel
glued to the back of a one-eyed man
who was humming something by the Neil Young
or at least I think that's who it was
as I listened my face grew old
not in the conventual sense of ageing
but as in a warm numbness
an electric shiver that swims between the third and fourth layers of your skin
the kind that approaches you when you hear a certain song
the one song that holds you deeper then yourself
and in that moment you feel like you understand something called love
we can stumble...and stand...for that matter
but only together can we have the strength to fly
to stare into the sun and be able to obliterate our solitary blindness
it's like catching a sickness by the tail
and eating him into submission
some violent chemical reaction that makes you grin
and hold a hand that is not your own
wishing all the time that it was
suddenly my thoughts burst and I'm back at the starting line
it's the compiled racket of the crowd
stacked in a pile and clawing up my leg
I've got to hide from these bastards
I've got to...ah forget it
just throw on some angel skin
and go out for a night on the town

Children In A Tree

Generations came down
through the touch of a finger
and nailed me to the wet lights
that poured into the mouth of a tree
some matches and a satellite
threw me into the civil service
to shoot grey the cakes
that sat gossiping upon the windowsill
and the story evolved
I heard the battlements crash down across the sea
individual death is calling much to moles
and you kept fighting with a butterfly
and you kept racing with the dead couch
live your life
half past three
a bottle of broken hours
collected to make the day
you figure it out
regicide and the avatar
or just another hungry ghost
which is it that shakes the confessions
out of a cynical two year old

A Marble Wash Basin In The Weight Of A Feather

Bring it down from the stars
and I'll kiss like my lips are a desert
craving the moisture of a world bathed in water
You toss and turn in the air
dreaming of gods and slender eyes
Deep brown eyes as you say
I whisper to the loose leaves
trying to achieve an ariel ballet
If they say that men can't fly
then I will denounce my humanity
and glide to your side
I grow tired of sitting in this realm
shrugging my shoulders to phantoms and ghosts
I wish to be a mountainous Indian
crashing through the forests of a distant planet
as the trees cheer and push me forward
A trampoline canopy will show me the way
throw off the roots that bind my soul
and breathe in the sweet fragrance that trickles down my tongue
Energy searches for the things that it does
and what is love if not mingled energy
I feel so like a bird crying shimmering droplets
raining upon the spines of smaller plants
that hunger for the life that the roof of the forest denies them
My hands can still do this
Sleeping hands that flicker in the presence of movement
The movement of your wings

Another Ending

hydrogen mummification
amphetamine landmine
crawl across the battlefield
in the drowning colours that clutch onto your elbows
logic pierces the flesh in a warm flash
a sharp pain that writhes within your liver
did I have to much to drink before the war
or was I just trying to silence the vicious Christians
that wait on every street corner
waiting for just the right moment to subdue you in their holy cannibalism
we all move to a rhythm
and it make me so hungry
for something that it seems I can never have
but we can't stop here
we have to push on through enemy territory
find some safe haven for the creative renegades

The Brood

half a death lost on the side of the road
it springs the lizard's head as if it's out of sight
automatic control and a bottle of pills
kneeling in a temple of soft eye bone
shallow passion and a razor is all I crave
incubi soul and a handful of antiquities
thrown across the floor with snake filled marbles glaring
narrow slits in the wall hold me up and keep me warm
like the trunk of the car that I suffocate in
trapped in the womb of a mechanical beast
roaming the highways for a tasty morsel
to be devoured by my own food
in the shade of a tree
she wrapped the car around it's wooly branches
and clung to the life that she chewed out of an acorn
the vehicle regurgitates and I'm on my feet again
crawling towards the caves in the side of her back
but she is numb from the spike
thrashing into her brain
and she can't feel my teeth
chewing thirty seven times
and I laugh at my teeth
having children of their own
the cries are so crisp
that I tear out my jaw
and sell it to a hitchhiker
on this side of the lake
who was searching for a ride
to the shameful thing he was

A Sleepless Night

hyperdermic breakfast
and eight flights of stairs
try to shout the words stream out
as an excess of ice clogs the programs
ingest the numbers
that incubate in a solitary room
what do you have to show for your triumphs
the wrongness of genetics
seen through the thoughts of geniuses

A Fever

An electric rape confused the colonies
that stumbled through my veins
as the dead sidewalk chokes
on the miles that have turned it grey
The mirror bleeds the life
of the bullet holes in the dice
and I sit here in a run
dissecting reality into atoms
The heat conquering my bones
and if you beat me to death
with a branch of corn flakes
I would still be a child in rage
for the love of the dead
Let's skip a day
and remember it a hundred years from now
wondering where the time could have gone
out the window with the notes
that told me something about the density of fate
A super nova bubbles under my flesh
streaming down in coils that root my feet in the world
I can almost point out the demons
before they paint themselves upon the wall
Can you see
just over yonder
the colour of lies?
A flip of the coin holds the key
to doors which one can not witness
Fill the sink with the sea and don't spill a drop
and we cling to the sheets not realizing a shroud
A sober implosion rippling through my cortex
drown and drown and drown
It's just a god
what are you afraid of?
Wire your head closed
the sounds are deaf and tongues are knifes
gone into hyperdrive
When I'm surrounded it's all right
but when I'm alone the toys kick back their throats
and sprout the heads of shapes unknown
playing on expressions which I can not explain
and don't wish to let go of
buried in my chest
Hanging levers whose roots are dead
drift in space in a nest made of glass
where a phoenix holds it's human chores
Do you understand
the size of energy yet?
I suppose it is just all to much for anyone to bear
The fever in my cranium has subsided
melt and disperse

A Stillborn All-Star

making a concave decision in the dark
proved to be harder than I thought
the quivering signs and drag queens
trampled the screams of the streaking cars
that passed with the speed of the damned
or perhaps they were just large snails that had the right of way
from China town to the dance club was no easy task
for those of us with chemical brains
to many distractions for the wondering eye to bare
the passing of the day had taken to much from us already
and the night was hindering our ability to fly
but cats knew how to fuck and fight on the right side of reality
and right now the holy light said to walk
so we did through the concrete wasteland of depravity and moral recombination
should we ware the Christian skins which throw themselves at us
or play with the magnetic fruit laid out as an appetizer
to much life played out on the shelf
but there is always time to grab a new head
crawl on a branch from one side to the other
to avoid the biomechanical rhinoceroses that signal their intentions to turn
this island splintered by the edge of the world
and all these vampires that feed on trends
no longer hold any fascination for me
nosferatu fell into the hard drive
and the bats all groove to new wave
spilling across the edges of the page
is it simply the reflection of intentions that shift moist skin
or did you flash me an image to thrust myself on to you
to suffocate your playful resistance and drug your tenderness
all these words we never say
seem to be extended by the rainbow of lights
that whirl the room with my already dizzy heart
sometimes alcohol does not mix with the visual sharks that serve it to us
electronic bacteria infects the senses
with the shift of time that always follows
through the end of a needle
the end of a storm at the bottom of the pool
the twist of colours screaming through the seams of your eye lids
tell the lights to quiet down in this either dream
for the weather in hell is raining second hand zombies
and those around us all seem painfully bland
but i have you to strangle my attention
as a frightful sword
stretched out against the dance floor
suicide and confidence accessorize the hubcap
which is always used as a stand-in for your halo
and i stood gasping for air in this murky aquarium
filled with creatures to foul to consume
and the last thing i need
is to be the next messiah for these stillborns

Wanting

My favorite colour is grey
and maybe that explains a lot
a ghost standing in front of the mirror
two blocks from your house
remembering that night in the woods
when you asked me to rape you
and I did because I desired you
when we were done we went back to your bed
you asked me to do it again
and I did because I loved you
I have to keep some distance from myself these days
to keep my head on strait
there are just to many memories to get past
and there is something in a shade of rain
that pins me in the air
unable to go home


Baking A Cake

Wandering around NY looking for answers
a camera man searching for a story
got lucky with the strangest assortment of mercenaries
a man without windows and to many shirts
an old Owl who was collecting scrap metal
salvaging the remnants of other lives
and a 23 year old with a bullet wound in his chest
in the formation of ancient Japanese scripture
for more information check the side of your head
the ingredients are a bit tricky to come by
but the finished product is exhilarating
The homeless man said something about getting some "pussy"
and tried to get me to pick up women with him
but this character was not my best bet for that idea
being that he had shorts on over his pants
and four visibly different shirts on
sometimes plaid just doesn't go with plaid
The Owl amused me the most though
swallowing pieces that are much to large to consume
plastic mice and a woman in a white dress stained by a grey sidewalk
he was attempting to make a living metal being
and discussing overcoming the human condition with me
and something about having women chase us
These two had now become my friends
but the camera man was starting to piss me off
clicking away his eye lids the whole time
just wanting pictures to take home
but anyone can stalk inanimate objects
It's the walking impressions that gave the most attention
to the systematic divisions of pixels
taking up shelter in one's eye
So we parted ways
trying to live our lives at the edge of the world
and convincing one another of reality on the other side


All writtings are copy written Cockatoo Pub. 1995, 1997 or 1999.


One Step Back And One Step Down