alone
thinking about the
giddy children of 2017 –
wrapped up in flashing
light and Disney.
Today’s horrors are
now my slime of
yesterday –
With you as me
but free of pills.
My future thoughts are
a bucket of tears –
liquid platonic love.
Puke of a sick moon
gathering fumes.
I think about
the unordinary
as a necessary fluid,
oozing from the
statement stars,
waltzing like a care-free
ghost on a
French retreat.
And then I became greedy
HA HA
Like those films.
Like a diamond vase
filled with copper coins
sweating trust
on ugly heavy palms.
Sweeter than words,
candied raindrops travel the
conduit
to open mouths beneath
the overheads
that carry
this invincible city
from A to Z.
Waist-deep in confession,
though I could not swim
through the
deep waterfall of
a commercial soft drinks pop.
Not with this body zapped –
Active –
Not with electric veins
so valiant like her skin,
that’s smooth and ripe –
both black and white
pretty like Chanel or Gucci.
.
zack robinson
Picture Rupert Loydell