a long slow boat ride on a rain forest watch in time to do it and die…. Watch the light in those eyes flicker out and... replay, ammut . monica cotton, as they flop about screaming foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog slapping way the lizards. A post post modernist apocalyptic tango. It's a fucked up world Mary Mary tells the crowd but were fresh ou, Daytona, jacksonville poetry, kent perry. poetry, kperry
Comment in the air
( a floating offence waiting for someone to take it.)
drifting out over the scene – or is it just the muddy Thames banks under Whitehall.
( you can just see the set.)
your in the limelight now!
( green with envy now are we? )
you can smell the separation/desperation –
or is that just the stench of 60,000 souls wandering the fields of lost dignity?
( just minor indiscretions, or so they say)
Who are they?
( throwing wind at cautionary tales of these minor indiscretions.)
Whose curse is this?
A monthly reminder
( weekly / daily / meekly)
crawling out of clubland cracks in the foundation
Abstractions in or of art.
Such an ill fitting mind.
Or so they say.
To be young and so full of with it indiscretions that are still to come.
This is the animated day to day; punctuated with no hope and no desires for
those cartoon renderings of what a day in the life is supposed to look like.
( dismal back of the stage life green rooms. )
a post vermilion sands
( oh so cheeky.)
Ballardian dreams of tarnished beach fronts.
( New Orleans dreams sound-tracked by Neu! )
So difficult to see set staged.
If the truth be sold.
( this day of reckoning is brought to you by Unilever.)