dreaming of coffee

it’s been one of those hollow days
not enough sleep
nowhere near enough coffee

i’m trying to write
hit the cold brew portion of the day
and it lifts me out of the fatigue

but my open mouth
and the run of drool
as i hang over a precipice of self gone away

how do i stay awake?


false equivalence

these things don’t balance
please don’t compare
for things that aren’t there

i see the offence
i see the defence

take it to the bridge
over all the trolls

i don’t trust polls
run a flag up them

tweets from the odd birds
it just feels broken and absurd

some days i can’t watch
i want to just listen to music

sore throat epilogue

sore throat epilogue
from talking too much
holding back a scream
i shouldn’t read comment threads
arseholes piling snowflakes high
trustafarians and identitarians
in too small aquariums
with goldfish memories
sniping at each other
it’s all ill-informed bullshit
from the echo-chamber
all a way to be less human
all a way to ditch compassion
and widen a divided
cracked and mirrored inside
watching the ebbing tide
i feel slightly fucked and fried

bullshit free

i found the beef jerky
sat here writing flu poetry
aching, always feeling like faking
watching Girls and taking some kind of notes
about the honesty of depiction
understanding the affliction
wondering about writing writers
to ask writerly questions
but knowing writers don’t do that shit
i’m kind of in a pit
self loathing piled in on top of me
trying to find something else to be
other than a problem
other than a complaint
other than some buckled martyred saint
that no one even beatified
and all the decisions were ratified by me
i set the bullshit free

wake dragging

you feel like crap
drive to the end of the tether
and snapped back
on the line
wrapped in sheets
for the rest of time

and you are falling
through the gravity
of your body
locked into a sick heat
somehow half complete
and not even skinning a dream

i wake dragging an anchor
an empty tanker
trying to wind up the clock
crawling out of the dreck
and i latch onto a speck
grab onto a light beam
and edge up through a primal scream
into some kind of better dream


some slick nausea
hangs in the shoulders
like wings of shadow
and i’m perching
on an abyssal ledge

dredging it out of the coffee
a thin line of energy
enough to tightrope
from point a to point b
where we dive into sleep

waking hours later
waking flowers later
some dark blooms
these emptied rooms
waiting to fill them


the inbetween places of shoulder shrug maybe
it’s hard to be certain
with no curtain drawn between
no kind of screen to divide
this side from the other side

so they ask you
and you say i’m not sure
not on either shore
just centered in the drown
entered in dragged down

we paused and ummed a clause
hummed a tune to pause
looking at two doors
two roads, a broken mirror
a signal glitch, an error

a certain amount of terror
enters in, because we are afraid
unsure how it’s to be played
all the edges frayed
your position betrayed

you want to stand firm
not be the turning worm
not be forced to squirm
to last out your term
but it’ built on a foundation of erm