<p>You didn’t answer my question though For my sins I live in Melbourne Where love is For all but Only A suggestion. Will These Failures grow Meaning through repetition ? I keep seeing your face-painted concern, when I Spill my drink almost falling between your Mismatched chairs. […]</p>
You didn’t answer my question though
|
For my sins I live in Melbourne |
Where love is |
For all but |
Only |
A suggestion. |
Will |
These Failures |
|
grow |
Meaning through repetition |
|
? |
|
I keep seeing |
your face-painted |
concern, |
when I Spill |
my drink |
almost |
falling |
between your |
|
Mismatched chairs. |
|
|
Did you just pretend not to hear me? |
|
Will these failures grow meaning through repetition? |
Kick Ons
The best thing about a bucket-hat is you can only look down.
Long timber scrap fire, cooper’s red
amber inclusions. Your speaker dies
five hours in, weak sunrise
melting with your extended rubber sole.
Don’t stamp it. Scrape it. Shape it.
I’m sober. I’m not sober. I wish I was sober.
I don’t know you. I am nothing
if not decorative; the cold excuses
my shaking hands. I can’t roll, and our
smiles haunt the flame, cold to warm and back.