Sneaking out at the back, sneaking in at the front.
Live and durable
Exhausted and fragile
Speaking with the voices of gin
Singing in the place you begin
Sweeping up those bits of unbelief
That stick in your stubborn back teeth
All that walks and lies beneath
The frosty glare of a sunny morning
Shattered black like a weather warning
Here in your distance a wreck to replace
The tricks of memory that change your face
Stand back from the brink of the place your toes grip
Stagger and sway on the edge of the lip
We fall; you fall in this withered alliance
Speaking out but silent as you baffle with your silence
This end break to divide and sparks to kindle
This cursed flame holds on to life and riddles
You came to understand but we made it all incomprehensible
That’s the play that we game. We stick to impossible.
A place to park those random thoughts, stolen images, hidden conversations and incoherent babble from beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down.
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