Patina

‘I was married, twice. The first had twins; they died at birth.’

He gave a last, loving push, with both thumbs

slid his cigarette along his tongue, one end

to the other. ‘It was for the best.’

The click of a lighter, a flourish of smoke.

A snarl as he picked a smidge of tobacco

from the tip of his tongue. ‘The second one

is in the nut house. I seem to have that effect

on women.’ He didn’t bother to laugh.

Far away, a train, scraping the night. Calling out.

Put me in mind of the groans

that used to escape the barred windows

of the institution, in the pregnant heat of summer.

Shall we

The corrugated plastic roof rattles

with rain, and this pleases me.

In particular, the occasional metallic

‘ping,’ as a lump of scrap is struck

in just the right place for music.

Forged and cast with care for some

forgotten purpose, now it lays dismembered

obsolete and without function.

Rats and robins shelter within.

The rain pelts itself harder and

faster in a burst of spite.

‘Notice me.’

We could walk out in it, you and I.

Out of town, where the fields sprawl,

where you can hear the earth drink the water.

We could creep under the hedge

and curl up like foxes.

Shivering and sodden

we could dissolve together.

Dead leaves and rabbit holes and spiders

Cold hands and slick skin and hot breath

Away from here.

A sweet distemper

I made this blog because I want to talk to you, and I hope you might talk back.

These are notes from a weird and gorgeous journey; filthy, lustrous, paved with alabaster and broken glass. The deeper into the woods I get, the more wonderful life becomes.

Outside, it looks like the same world of drab city consumer circus jump the hoops get the look stay tuned designer lifestyle benefit street glassy-eyed consumption units taking in and extruding shit have you got a bikini body do these ten things to make yourself happy prescription for antidepressants do not mix with alcohol saturday night valium jack daniels not responsible for his actions two year ban ten ton fine living for the weekend the coke’s alright they’re trying for a baby another miserable fucked up wannabe they cut open an albatross and it was full of bits of plastic I’m lovin’ it big pharma get a credit card keep young and beautiful how to get a youthful glow save for your retirement travel the world open your mind demand tighter controls on immigration express your individuality by buying a chevrolet think of the children dress to impress get an iphone pout for the camera shave your pussy get your five-a-day work hard get a mortgage and do the right thing..

It’s not though, it’s not. I was chewing at the bars for years and years, and then I got free, and I realised nobody has to swallow any of that shit- the door was open all along. It is possible to reject the salient paradigm and to feel freer and more full of joy and wonder than you did even when you were a kid. When you’re a kid, you always have that malignant, grimy adult world trying to force its filth on you, probing and entwining your soul with its ugly tentacles. When you are an adult yourself, you can reclaim your soul, and you have the strength to defend it. That so called ‘adult world’ can fuck off- it’s dirty and disgusting and it’s destroying the planet. I want to use this blog to write about my journey, to hear about yours, to write, to write about writing, poetry, art, magick, trash, veganism, surviving, floating, and whatever else comes along that strikes me as beautiful or disgusting. Love you

RatsandRobins

xxx