More Sunburn


Something else


What is it?

What’s inside this lobe

Field of daisies

Fields of you and i

Where our eyes don’t meet.

Where we use our feet

To find opposite hemispheres in which  to lie


I think the sense has left

What’s there is how it works now:

running idle



I run through dirty hospitals

Trying to save people from being cut up



Where did this come from?

What is it?

It’s something else.

You don’t exist anymore



What’s going to happen?

Forbid the new things, please.

I’m not liking what I feel,

What I can see I know will happen


I find the whole scenario

Found it grotesque


At least I like Sherbies

My parents, their lives,


The pretty girlies.


I’m under construction?

That’ll do.