Tweeker's dîner mondain

 They spent hours cooking the pasta
And putting it on expensive dishes 
Then on shelves
Neighbourhood parents took plates down and ate

And every dish had a special defect
The tomato paste was too bitter
The creams were oversalted
As a rule the dining room was dim

Fussy parents tried to balance the plates in their hands
And see just what if any was the merit of the food

The tweeker's put their own music on
Music they had recorded with money they had stolen
Videoclips of popular tourist locations

One could ask how the hell did they put it all together
It was part of their one month clean declaration
The slow return to sincerity
Which was still racked with grandeur and euphoria

A temporary truth for some of them, most of them
And the next day one them would return to the meth and crack
The next day all the parents would suffer food poisoning

Molha-bobo

 Pittering and pattering
Whispering wrapping in
Condensed heavy

The slow air
Temperature loses patience
visibility no longer

The hard smooth spitter
Fat ears accelerate
Into the minds and heads 

Hairy canyons
Myriad ridges
Persistant precipitation

Through openings
Closings of dense fingers and hands
Overflowing lowlands bursting creeks

Digestion and destiny

 Tonnes of food 
chicken beef and pasta
A buffet to inflate every sense
Every physical edge

Eating is a burden
trays and trays for my human mouth
it all sits there in my gut
Digesting

How am I any different from
any of that food
Trailing down behind some predictable crowd
Into some popular brand or authority

Afraid of our own freedom
Killing given passion
Settling for leftovers
and chowing down to the audience sign's shine

Choking on aspirations
But swallowing double helpings of sloth
and creamy complacency
digesting unfulfilled destiny

With wings we crawl

 Helping hand
from a world mundane
Passion fires up
Spiced up

It's all it wants to do
move and be
Sustain itself
Burn the tongue

Singe the throat
Oxygen rules the lung
Food the stomach
A universe of potential deflates

Under predictable 
heavy routine
we crawl
With wings on our back

Sway love glow

 Two faces question
Chili flake packet contents
Pouring out onto hand
Thrown onto tongue

Twin love
Sway liebe sway
Sway down low
Way up high oh

These faces question
Mouth burns oh
Kiss buries lo

Sex digs it up
Gives it good legs
makes it walk
makes it glow reality 

The university shitter

 I put the hook and turned the latch
delapidated
bacterial prison
it was here that I would attempt number two

With half ply paper distorted from being wet
Then dry
Some desperate individual rattled the front door
I watched the lock itself almost jump

almost snap
I thought it might break off the wood
And let whatever vagrant kind enter
Right in the middle of the heinous task

Luckily he wouldn't see much
As it was pretty much dark
As to let those things that hate light grow
And let those stenches build potence

Fortunately the vagrant gave up
After I barked from my awkward position
Lazy footsteps subsided
A tiny degree of relief

The thin lines of line
Coming through the gaps in the door
Just enough to guide me to a rusted basin
where neither soap nor towel were

so I used what I had
water and jeans

Maybe, the teatowel and the Regent Buzzard

 I told tea towel
I told maybe
But neither agreed that I could fly
But I did attempt to convince

I didn't crash, neither fall
I didn't hurtle back to earth
I slowly went up and down
As if on a balloon

I told maybe he could do the same
He didn't believe me
I told tea towel too
but he wasn't amused

So off a sturdy papaya tree I threw myself
And rose over the valley a regent buzzard
Crownless and invisible to the inhabitants
Yet limitless in this tiny corner of the earth

Maybe had climbed up into the tree 
To get better view of me in the sky
Tea towel retired his pride wounded
Nothing is as majestic as real flight