It's all in the mind they say

Hopes and dreams at the end of another day

Clocking in and clocking out is a waster's way to live

We should be thriving and conniving to forge a life of our own

It's all well and good 'clocking-in' and 'clocking-out'

But I want to live before time runs out

Watching the clock all day, tick-tocking all the way

What's the point in it all anyway?

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I'm a reptile

But I'm warmer 

When I'm with you

You stir something in me

Like I'm always on the edge of something

There’s a chemical reaction between us

It makes me feel like static energy 

Could we really be the result of chance?

Can chance pull like a magnet?

Or is this kismet?

Because

It runs fast, long, rife

It is our double life

We share a secret world t...

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Down the endless garden 
to a hand-built shed of wonders
and little me, sitting with my grandad
listening to all the voices
pushing through the static

What magic in those wires!
The narrow band, the wide
The squelch and the gain
The whistle and the whine
sounds I’ll never forget

The spectrum of a planet 
chattering
Such wisdom in rough fingers
so deft upon the dial
gently they’d ...

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I can’t tell you.

But last night, you entered my chest

for play, some kind of game, like ‘Operation’

and then I couldn’t sleep

I jolted – shivered – jerked – quirked,

now my eyes don’t close

and my body is a pulse,

you tiptoed across my ribcage,

leaving foot prints enlaced by landmines,

you slept on my lungs,

short wired my arteries,

you clipped the circuits of my ...

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Do you every get that giddy feeling?

Like a child who just woke up on Christmas morning

looking at the presents that Santa brought.

Or like a student who just auditioned for her schools’s play,

and now is waiting for the cast list to be posted.

Yah, I do too.

It’s a wonderful feeling of hope and desire.

It’s driving at 70 mph with the windows down on an open road.

It’s rare...

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The speed

The rush

My face turns flushed

I'm being crushed

By your presence

Can't stand your absence

Laying, relaxing with you

It doesn't matter what we do

Quietly watching TV

Intertwined, breathing heavily

Or cracking up, acting a fool

Its not like back when I was in school

But its true

I like you

And I'm hoping you like me too

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Look close, look far

too far?

(too far)

Cars come, cars go

tortured, metal boxes, smudged colours

on tattered tarmac.

Pneumatic drill sounds, distant

hammering, dry clatter

on summer paving.

A man, newspaper

folds and departs kiosk

shimmered in sun.

The calls from traders

I heard them, then

did not hear them

(refused to hear them).

Stepped inside a p...

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