custerd (iii)

how chromatic of me

to be jaundiced and jaded

all at once

placing finger after finger

scaling jesus’ and jacob’s

crackers if you think about it

when all my life i’ve been

in an abysmal fissure

trapped between not being

brave enough to engage with my life

and not being brave enough

to pull the trigger


what do i do?

take my advice

and murder my chances

of escaping alone

to meet the wife i don’t know

and the life I don’t own

or lifting my head

and returning to earth

to shine a light so profound

that others can see

how shit everything is/has been

since eighty-three

i’m exhausted and

tired for my friends

who have lovingly watched me

write myself in and

myself off simultaneously

putting the “mess” in Messiah

since ninety-three

drawing back string and

watching it soar before falling

to the sea or the sand

or aim straight to the ground

or searching for kindling to ignite

a fire already alight that

night after night

has kept me awake not warm and

has served a purpose to disturb me

only a little more than I already am

and should I meet someone?

should I? I’ve no good answer for that

I’d heart a crossroads right now

there’d be four ways to go not


The New Sound

I felt aware, hyper-aware, wide awake and captivated by a fear; the magnitude of which I had never felt before. In the days, weeks, months that followed, I tried to carry on as if nothing had happened. Gradually attending to “tuning in”my new point of view.

It seemed to have a few classic presets; insecurity, paranoia, crippling shyness and an all-consuming sense of general panic.

Like pawing blindly at the buttons and getting a Country and Western station every time