RE WORK FROM 2014 trying to anchor some of my earlier pieces
Frustration – Person
I creep from under the covers and gorge on plenty; mind alive
Fist fender blast, fuzz box bits of brain smelling agents
Scantily disguised telephone conversations, whizz into my person
With girls that aren’t there for you, just left out to dry, too normal and ugly to be delighted,
I am blighted with indigestion and clogged up,
Unable to abuse, to wrinkled for all; no ticket to the ball
Scrubbing the floor with no glass slipper.
It’s my reasonable assumption that lonely apprehension is immersed in depression and self absorbtion.
Cross the words with the understanding, a purple trance lamination, oblivious to the machinations
Fruit picking, speeding, blue-pilled imagination.
I have sensations heightened, life’s living for a moment, then hell of isolation, broken penetration, dull realisation, emotional degeneration.
Waiting for call to cosmic, the start of a beginning, plastic circus manipulation.
Grow old whilst waiting, disappointed then tainted.
Drains up on perception; just green, still never learning
Yearning for excitation
Just stirred up by self inoculation
Locked in lust joined in fast winter round tree branches; street lamp delighted.
Shining graveyard life lost
Digging holes for a self preserved prison
Chomping the chocolate to burst the energy with special brewed cans of sleepless nights
Feeling homeless, hapless but free of cramped style, living a minute by a mile; pressing lead stolen to cap the bottle of a truly dangerous potion
Black smothered pot smoking pipes dripping as I pull into breathing
Anal nitrate fizzing capsules injected by nightly dreamt free party animals
My peer group gentry
Squeeze a lemon on tequila entry
Spark the salt lick on arrival
Copyright Patrick Turner-Lee 2015 Mar 27th