Orange glue


The words form, solid and buoyant. A rusty chrome.

I cradle the words and lay them down into a thick woven fabric.

They deserve to be tied up with in a bow like a present.

They hop up and climb into a sewer tube.

They run round thinking about the sun.

They try to remember what buttons are made of. Plastic or wood?

Thousands of peasants die and fall into the sewers.

The words feast on the corpses and grow strength.

They rocket into the atmosphere and shatter the stratosphere.

Glass falls on tongues like snow and lacerate the digestive tracts.


“Close your eyes and hold out your hand”
Into it I drop fifty grand

“So why the suspicious gift, friend?”
“Fifteen seconds, our lives will end”

Your eyes widen, filled with despair
Rips in the sky begin to tear

“This whole charade was a big tease?”
The airbourne flames kill you with ease


the skulls like roman emperors
them empty sockets cant remember us
hitch a ride from a half drunk eskimo
get a blowjob from figure skater flo

think bout the last time we had coffee
wonder bout the next time we’ll be jolly
you’d like to read a book but don’t think you can
just pick it up give a page a scan

In the future we will never read again
open our minds put the words in them
we waste our time waiting for a machine
so all our brains are all squeaky clean

ending spirits with a mighty glug
could we stop drinkin if we found the plug?
self defeat, no more than a hobby
cyclical, no ending, probably.