an urchin inspector.

her feet acquired a curious  luminosity- she spent days staring wriggling flexing holding back and forth, so much beauty? appearing so late? these milestones will strangle you, you want them to strangle you but really it's you choking yourself, on one long empty road as you fight off bats and yell in the dark, because everyone has walked on. they waited and you refused to ketch-up.

anger, sickness. you're already free! a ginger cat walks past you, stalks you- you miss the cats don't you? black cats in your  cupboard (he's bobbing past on water now), then the spotted tom who followed you home.

then the dreams- no turtle ships on water, no techinicoloured havens. instead a snarling monkey, a  dog who saves you, then chomps up your arm. flying past: everything you've forgotten to carry, an army of lost and founds.  remember the leopard? so gently, hugely, it stalked up to me, gravely grabbed my arm in its mouth. I stood watching in fascination, alarms bells faintly ringing in my head: you should be screaming, this should be hurting why aren't you worried? the alarm bells always sounds like my mother. 

then sex, it always comes down to maulings and sex. and the  flowered armchair in the doorway to an office building. first: the prepubescent boy, a penis envy so clear it could only be false, why would my subconscious yell at me like this? spell things out so simply. seems suspect, should be suspect.

but then that's your greatest fear isn't it? the boredom you exude. the lady who read your palm, looked at your face and shrugged, smiling. nothing there. thankyou very much, maybe you should go home now. 

a weighty cross to bear.

me more about you? I want to take you to a meal, sit with you across a table think think think od something more to say  

(she talks like a knife)

do you

brush your teeth twice a day? listen when I breathe? watch me smile, because I smile slowly just for you, replace that with conversation, unfold like a cracker in midair. then I think of you in golden sunlight, words invented my life course life source has disappeared melted in the rain,

give me something to think about? 

hello.

I remember best of all
that which has been before. happened before you came
here because in another time
you and I leant into each other, your perfectly shaped head
fit into my hands. a look across a table and i know
you watch the whites of my eyes.
my backward turned head nervous edgy looking turning yearning learning so much
about my insides
the hypocrisy that crumbles insides like
rust and then you are like cellotape tearing away, giving way. a call from a nose, across oceans and toes.

my toes are the colour of my skin now.

then i think of you, wait for your absence to hit me like a punch to the stomach, wind evacuated from my my solar plexus, chakra centre kundalini centre but that's your behind is itnot?

tell me more about what you think of?

what do you do with your own flesh andblood leave? love hate in fearful disdain? bewildered exhaustion?


I like tables, I like it when you tap my head. I like being melancholy, and the man in
striped pyjamas who made me think of you and me.

froggone forlorn

where do you think we went wrong?

I lie in my bed, masturbating to my own death. the final kaboom in everyones face, the inky lines in the newspaper/ the wrath of the weather the pain the ankles linked and all falling down, all in one big kabhooshwhooshbhooshshh.

the lists don't make sense in the end. I want to feel this pain, life is feeling one pain to another? then where does the rest fit in? what am i leeving for? unless this is time, the time, for me to stop and forget.

the lists are going to be thrown away. i have decided. now you must go and fly into my earlobes. out of my skin, stretching, pulling, pushin g.

the pills. they are done for. she asked me what was wrong, promised to spend time with me.

I will be free! The thought is terrifying. "now who are these people? is he really more important than me??"

no nothing ever is more / disgusting / than
the thought that I might have to live like that
hypocrite!
your slithy toves
glimmer above
my head, a slap, a slap !
a midnight car chase;
it all happened, i was there (no you weren't i was wasn't was. not. yet.)
we go back, a long way.

we go back and if I could go
back
I would run.

but then I wasn't ever given much of a choice was I?

its this, your love? Is this it? I know I am here, you feed me clothe me, my whizzing brain can't look beyond your ridiculous arguments, but that's only because I'm rusty, born rusty- more slow than what you kno.w

another boy, another bore.crying? that's annoying.


now I feel blood itching to be spilt- wanting needing feeling this urge to coagulate under smoky skies


I alone?
I am alone. You would leave me? In the dark, on this stage? my faithful commander is alone, in his head. His eyes fixed on a distant star, teeth clenched in a grimace. lips curl to smile but I see the blood from his gums. from his lips. from the clenching, unclenching, biting pushing shoving.

how doe I knoe you ? howe doe I care?

How inconsistant can you be?

I'm ill. mediclaiming lies medicalamitous alibis

this is all I have left, throwing them into the atmosphere thinking of them hurtling towards you

(and I see giant black thirdworld letters bonking you on your head; elegant, so suave, all those clothes that I cried over, as I watched you try them out hanging off your perfect frame.)

I know no other! is this love, then? here? in this recapturing of smooth skin. soft bristles. dead toes and the smell. the rain. water on our back. mirrors, yellow light, to and fro fro to fro to back here there come.

don't leave!

(but you must!)

the pornoking

why are you going away? my hysteria mirrors the vanishing days. I'm snatching at bits of you, knocking you out of the way while I'm trying build that perfect vision, the perfect memory, the aesthetically pleasing porno. E-rotica.

You scare me

I don't want to have to be another person already

who ever heard of a happy shadow?
who ever heard the shadow anyway


I want:

A Margarita
A head that doesn't feel like three elephants are melting inside it
( I told you I could feel their trunks slinking down my skull)
Mosquito repellent

A Life Plan/-er.

Applicants are Welcome

I used you to write this

i see
im alone
a rat the rabbit
my hairy ears are glistening quivering hastening
the slow decay the fast de-
generation

(re-gen-er-a-c-i-on)

now the wait the slow fall the things I want you to know
the betrayal is false you know as much as i do it
can be
the stasis the drone the nostrils flared acrid smell my hair burns my hair burns
again your shadow again my eyes again
im in the darkness and my m***ocan nightmare will be clear:
there's the pink panter the murmurs in my ear the hint
of tears? the friends who ate too much
the girls who fled, screaming
the eyes flashing in the dark the eyes snapping and biting snarling at the cars that drive by in the night
painting my walls with light stripes s/tripe lights
you're gone you're gone!
its over
we won.

उट पटअंग

my friends my arms my worker limbs
black strands all in a row lined up like soldiers rising when its
cold
flowing fluttering in the breeze

Why don't you write any more? There where I can read it. Instead
you wave bits of paper at me, black letters like flies attacking my
eyes
they scare me these lines most lines

but you know when i sat down behind a bush to pee
red pajamas fluttering in the wind
and that maddenned cow ran at me
i didn't move, i stayed and watched
because her spinning swirls and grumbling furls
reminded me of you and your chest (is it larger now? did my memory
fade?)
emerging out of the inky night the kind of night I wake up gasping
screaming and choking and your back faces me and
and somehow
somehow this pure adrenaline
this I might die impaled on this cows happy horns
makes me yearn for the fright
the fear
the terror
of waking up
and finding you gone.

busdays, kota.

Her skin was stretched tight across her expressionless face; feet splayed and knees barely supporting the gigantic watermelon held in by her yellow sari, bobbing on the edge of her seat.
In this bus you’re suspended in mid air no feet no hands just the rhythmic push and shove to and fro equalised sardines in a hurtling tin can
I wriggle my feet, looking for the corrugated metal floor, plant them around an old woman huddled up on the shuddering ground, fingers are blue, grasping the overhead bars. I’m twisting and contorting, trying to avoid the ocean of sweat running off the slick tonsured head infront of me. It is a beautiful head, shiny and dark; and I’m mesmerised by the unceasing flow of glittering beads. My arm is soaked.