My collection is not me. The pressure thought, freezes me. Don’t come in. Don’t come close. Look away- sucking my life away. Crie crie. Communicate respect integrity excellence. Uniqueness. They came in- alone again now, plus a watch and a book and a tear to each eye. Power policy, still stirs, shoes and hurt. Plans? None. Kill me I’m boring, droll drab and half dear, poor imbalance of heartless indifference. Alive or dead, a crumbling in of life. Diffuse terror, trembling eruptions of mind, bright light and spears of pain career into my every moment. Sequel to nothing. Fighting the beat, unenjoyment, fearful fellowship on my own flight. Benevolence in freindlessness. Silence over this radio zone. Specks over the bridge of time. Flecks of spit, drooling time. Sick and spittle, creative brilliance alone in the moment- everlasting as nothing is. Or is not, the knot undoing. The line or rope hanging, sticking in my throat. Poised. Ready, fickle finance, the fools hold. Pick me up, the gravity of my ills, mis-pretension of apprehending endings. Bed bound and wound around the sound of my neighbours, abuse and gall. Of all olds, the manifold soul of those sold, touching nerves, swerves add race like mace in a space or place is ace for traction attraction interbreeding and weeding, seeding is feeding and freeing states of being my lightness. Sit sit sit all day sleep all night, burn-out. Switch off. Make it work for you. This shoe: shoot your self in the head. Blast plaster with your plastered soul. Live or grow old. Crab crab cram. Crab arms and degeneration. No nation, disgust. The food in me lulls me into fits of anxious tidal waves of sick. Chunks of digestion, sensitive to the moon? Torn and tired and spilling it all out.

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