Eyes i use.
Eyes i see.
Eyes i use to
Think you’re something special
Staring out. He hates the squirrels,
Blue, I view them as
A line break is a punctuatory measure.
See, I like the horrid stresses
i like the awful awful awful
Bad poetry ha ha ha ha ha look at you reading
All my bad poetry HA, HA, HA, HA
I see you, don’t you know?
I made a point not to gaze at shoes
Eyes i use.
Eyes i use.
Eyes i’m not sure you use too
forget the invitations, floral arrangements and breadmakers
too late to go out, too young to stay in
they’re talking about us living in sin;
hey, hey, marry me, archie"
I want to snuggle into every word you’ve ever said.
I liked when we went to London
And all of the advertisements
Bestival off the train at King’s
Cross, Greggs, Laura Ashley
Making jokes together
On the balcony at night.
I was afraid and thought I might die
Thought I could die and I wanted
I wanted to just…I’m not sure
Put under, it put me under
Rain and London city lights
From the rest of them, he
Gave us a squinting look which I
And can’t find out
If it meant a thing
I wished they’d watched us laugh
To put some extra value on it perhaps
And I hated the food but not really
And I hated the eating though the hating
It could have been avoided.
But i did not avoid it
Were the lights avoiding me?
"real" what a hilarious concept
pain needs recognition
but what if all you do is hurt
what kind of soil is that
if you keep reminding something broken
of its damaged parts
how will it know how to heal
would it otherwise not be real
would you then be running
towards a hallucination?
but if you keep looking back,
how can you even be set in motion?
I’m easily bored. That’s why.
spindles; what are they? Jazzed,
Clasped, bread like white halitosis
Pinkness weeping from the noses
and the tiredness and our knowinglessness
For the girls
Put it on
And hope it carries on
and that you payed
inside the throat it is diseased
a voicebox singing, intermittently
But doesn’t everybody
Not their weather or work
Just their own
We are not substance
It is not the substance
We are not the substance
We are colourful,
And beyond the light that we can see
I can’t remember everything
so no longer can I check.
You make me for-get anything
So bad and all’s a wreck
I can not double think
I can not sleep
but I can sink
Where is my self security where are my
pills where is my state to give me bread?
Where is my mother, make her keep me
An oldie but a goodie
(i can tell cos this one got 4+ notes).