We are the surrogates, when mother's milk ends

we take over, weaning on objects of desire

when liquid turns to gold.

Mummy and Daddy consume and so

it will be with the little ones

small models of a greater future

we'll start them with

soft toys then as their awareness grows

dress them up in more grown up clothes

show them heroes

the American Dream

sweet dreams...

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We are the surrogates, when mother's milk ends

we take over, weaning on objects of desire

when liquid turns to gold.

Mummy and Daddy consume and so

it will be with the little ones

small models of a greater future

we'll start them with

soft toys then as their awareness grows

dress them up in more grown up clothes

show them heroes

the American Dream

sweet dreams...

Read and leave comments (0)

We are the surrogates, when mother's milk ends

we take over, weaning on objects of desire

when liquid turns to gold.

Mummy and Daddy consume and so

it will be with the little ones

small models of a greater future

we'll start them with

soft toys then as their awareness grows

dress them up in more grown up clothes

show them heroes

the American Dream

sweet dreams...

Read and leave comments (0)

(Poem dedicated to the Liverpool Tate art gallery which has chosen to buy and display this piece of abusive exploitative art)

Sometimes I wonder if I'm wearing the right glasses

wrong glasses

wrong lens

or  wrong vision?

All around me

people see things

differently -

depersonalise

rationalise

intellectualise

forgive

the unfo...

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A silence fell upon the city,

contorted shadows twisting moonlight.

Stuttering in a speakeasy seemed so misplaced

bottles rattled flickering like Fedora feathers

in an unforgiving wind.

The wretched odour of deprivation

a stench that sticks and degrades ones existence.

Even by day this city remains a lifeless sap

and by night the vampires feast on thei...

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