My brain becomes it's own orbit,

drowning memory of the

Lust and Found.

I know not my name, my home.

I am an infant breath with teeth of kelp tapestries:

glass slipper/private nitrogen, a picture frame for amputations -

every walk first is sin.

There is Hitler Youth in a hour glass

and chapping my ankles, the leaf is charred

by an iron fist, a genocide in a priest -

are we all circumstance cannibals?

 

My fin is turning for the Turing Test:

 

"Open the door Cruel Eye,

salt for map, the governor must destroy

such asylums of tongues for the Rubix

with sanctums of Crystal meth,

every acid - a soldiers breath

and a savage playground

for Dreamers, coquettish and naive. Reality rapes

and if truth be known,

then societies are pets starved, battery farmed -

pellet, pellet, pellet.

Eyes flicker three colours and jammed in, Television

screens breathe the holy trinity:

Tune In, Turn Off, Obey.

Look under the door for eternity is ignorance as small fruit

and graves are 7 posted friends.

Ha, ha , ha - offered the party and Thought died remembering.

PUT DOWN THE GIRL goes the bells of St Clements

and you will not see the Door with your philosopy, your band T-shirt -

the clever sentences you say

are like athritis in a clock.

The jaw is wired and the bulb flashes

like a saint; a picture of you smoking cos it looks cool.

Warhol used Einstein for a passport

and got into all the best parties -

Myra/Diana Dors, the assumed cocktail

pin ups.

Fuck Aphrodite."

                      My dear sweet Beatrice grins

and i am blinded. I know not my name, my home.

 

"I'm glad I am an athiest," thought God.

 

The future is bright from my bowl.