Origami
I only find you in the dark. Groping for a door handle when all is black glass.
Just clocks picking locks.
Everyone hates us
our guts, our body licking
my hands
on your waist
how we taste.
You're hopping and skipping,
glimmering gloom
molly popping
wan face shimmering.
Your scarlet sofa lips part to smile for me, belying your not-there stare.
One day, we will writhe together
at the dawn of day. We'll do the easy part now
furiously folding each other.
He Leads Us Into The Depths
I've just seen Nick Cave. He is the vampire king his feral symphonies drowned by the rattles of pearls from balconies. There are no spirits or sparks in Montreux town. Every thought and deed billed on green paper noted in black books. I thought Switzerland was cold he says, leading us from the steam chamber past the food and bible stalls into the bubbling Lac Léman. The thin dark spook screams and the thin dark spook shouts. Slicked back hair falls lose as he sneers and spits.
He parts the lake across to Evian's orange lights. The waves are walls. Bankers and traders and watchers drown until they're dead. Moneychangers prospectors too. Little fish eat through their heads. His deep blue suit wicking every drop, he walks and wades through the deep. Up the thousand steps. Up to the long black train, no more pain and suffering. In the train of hope and intent where cash and souls are never spent.
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