The packs were becoming a tall pile
The monitor called us to organize
We were told we could stay if we helped
So we did as we were told
Cleaning the cloak rooms
fixing the broken rides
unseen worker bees
Spanners and screw drivers
Blue uniforms
Though thank god
New shoes over holy socks
three round meals
Maintenence for the park
Voyeurs of the rich
Our grease stained uniforms
Not very good camouflage
David Bowie's eyebrows swam
like two tropical fish
His irony the aquarium
Unsure of his own philosophy
His charities unseen
Always singing
Putting on a show then
escaping his million fans
seeking this hero
The fish swim up
Tickling fan's desires
The salt water had to be perfect
In an imperfect world
One minute bitter from silence
The other overwhelmed by noise
The colors on their bodies
The grace in the water of fame
The appeal from outside
The call from withing
What an aquarium
Dry summer
long hot daunting days
We are down to our socks
Our tears don't make it to our cheeks
For the sun dries them up
Make our way to the tiny town of waikanae
Our shoes have busted and no longer lace
We continue along the chalky stones in socks
Sunstroked and hopeless
Roadworkers chortle
Point and riff raff rattle
Their junk food faces judge
As we pass emaciated
What charity will have us
What side of God shall will pray to?
As we come to the sanctuary
Muted by Exhaustion
These pastel colored amusement park cars
A wall of faces
surrender envy
make me feel
make me feel
The way they ride around seemingly forever
The children laughing gleefully
Their parent's silent competition
Make them feel
something beyond this envy
How they stand now empty
But yearning faces still look on
Imagining driving over smooth
Turnstyle's stuck
Ticket man is absent
It's all beeen traded in for a zoo
So surrender your envy
Or they might just cage you
With the rest of the furry critters
from where the pastel colored cars would sit.
With malice it could be done
Not with sword not with gun
Under a thick dosage of sauce
Brown sauce
Terribly misunderstood steak so thick
The hornet's nest is absent mindedly kicked
And out spin the stingers blood to bleed
You'd think a helping of hyperdermic needles
might jostle the mind inside indeed
With malice he cursed from under his breath
For assasination dwelled in thought
oh whose thought question brought?
The sinew will bake from within
Resistance will dry I'll have mine
Then salted with extracted saline
to dampen it by force of spin
finishing once again with brown sauce on chin
malice as sweet and overpowering as cinammon
Terribly misunderstood authority inflatted
Malice sunk into the temples of the law creater
brown sauce slipping from the side of the mouth
down like hostile treacle
down like shipwreck
Sinew pulls
Resistance tries
The begger and the pauper smile
The pretender cries
Maybe a hornet or two will jostle the mind
Some where back in southern Germany.
Where summer sunset took over an hour.
Fucking in an abandoned hospital.
Next to a race track.
Step sons and permanence.
Desperate passions,
quite like huge government projects.
They will tax you.
And you'll never feel like you got to the bottom of it.
Sunsets and fucking are supposed to feel romantic.
But it all felt like a routine checkup.
The woman was enigmatic, euphoric even.
But abandoned hospitals don't bode well for allure.
And going straight for the home run,
felt like a cheap "all you can eat" with a time limit.
The race track near the hospital also empty.
No speeding motors tearing it up on the track.
The thought accelerated me so I could get it done with.
When it was done we took the Johnny gowns off.
Put our regular clothes back on, nothing was better,
We were still two hurt people inside an abandoned hospital, next to an empty race track.
I walked past myself on the way to the dairy.
pick up somethings because night would be quick.
Cold afternoons breeze sharp and uncomfortable.
The elm on the corner yellow but it wasn't autumn.
I sought signs in my surroundings.
Like I had been here before.
This life I had absorbed into.
This body I was looking out of.
What I was supposed to be.
What I was supposed to do.
I walked past all that too.
Left it on the footpath.
Walked in the bell chimed.
Went straight to each item without thinking.
The man behind the counter was polite.
The exchange was short almost pleasant.
Out I went looking down at the ground outside the dairy.
The concrete so well stepped on, smoothed over even.
I walked past myself leaning against the wall of the shop.
Smoking a cigarette and pretending not to care, pretending...
