A dopamine haze
Sank on our handshake,
Under a southern American sky.
(my stained teeth,
your emphatic gaze) the
your emphatic gaze) the
Low din floor drop
Flare and
Flare and
Screaming whine.
Leaving out the back door in Piccadilly's theatre,
Trafalgar lit up all white
Trafalgar lit up all white
Lord Nelson
Lady Hamilton
(the one who bore his child)
The Battle
The Fire
(the wife he left behind)
A shitty French car in Waterloo Gardens
Lady Hamilton
(the one who bore his child)
The Battle
The Fire
(the wife he left behind)
A shitty French car in Waterloo Gardens
Your reference book atlas
Your sleeve and its stripe
Your uncluttered fingers and
Glance of my hand,
(neighbor's baby seat
Your sleeve and its stripe
Your uncluttered fingers and
Glance of my hand,
(neighbor's baby seat
behind the driver's side)
Old Clifton churchyard
Where there is no longer a church
Silent graves still behind me
Friendly dead sit before me
My groceries on some vicar's bench
Waving a laptop down the valley night
Sky-searching for a signal.
These lovers walk where they last shot fireworks
Off the Clifton bridge
Lit like Brooklyn.
O, Fireworks! (these days)
Titanium bursting bright!
Red lithium elixirs and strontium crowns alight!
But you should see
Saltpetre raining in the night!
(if I say your name out loud
this bloke smoking a joint will hear me)
I must be high.
There's nothing here from you.
There are no Treasure Islands
Where men are not afraid to cry
No Generals-
With paper shells
Screaming trails
And warm glowing centers.
We are on the pirate sea.
Cannons blow and
Gut the water
Sinking as they cry.
I trace two English graves.
I turn my own dirt over.
I shift my father's ashes
Round my neck inside a silver drop.
With a charge, did this
hollow cannon from the first war ever fire?
Waving a laptop down the valley night
Sky-searching for a signal.
These lovers walk where they last shot fireworks
Off the Clifton bridge
Lit like Brooklyn.
O, Fireworks! (these days)
Titanium bursting bright!
Red lithium elixirs and strontium crowns alight!
But you should see
Saltpetre raining in the night!
(if I say your name out loud
this bloke smoking a joint will hear me)
I must be high.
There's nothing here from you.
There are no Treasure Islands
Where men are not afraid to cry
No Generals-
With paper shells
Screaming trails
And warm glowing centers.
We are on the pirate sea.
Cannons blow and
Gut the water
Sinking as they cry.
I trace two English graves.
I turn my own dirt over.
I shift my father's ashes
Round my neck inside a silver drop.
With a charge, did this
hollow cannon from the first war ever fire?
Here lies a
Book of matches and the
Remains of a bottle rocket.
There are no strings
Glowing beams shoot out
Make a buzzing sound
Like my laughter only muffled.
Go out tonight.
Look up.
Get this one
Sailing
