Friday 30 May 2014

30/05/2014 - THE CHANCE TO WIN

THE CHANCE TO WIN MAKES ME INTOLERABLY AFRAID TO CHILL THE DEAD AND FEEL THEIR TWISTED SOUP RUNNING THROUGH THEIR TWISTED FINGERS. HOOK BONES ARE WAITING IN THE FLOATING AND YEARNING WON'T DO ANY OF US ANY GOOD, NOT WHILE THE LIARS ARE THE CAVALRY WITHOUT SICK BREATH ON HEATHES. I HEAR THAT YOU BECAME A DIRECT DESCENDANT OF THE CROSS THAT CHOKED CHRIST INTO A FILTHY VERSION OF HIS BROTHER'S FIST, ALL ALONG THE ARCH OF HIS HISTORICAL THRONE. MY BUDDY IS ON FIRE BECAUSE HE HAS BEEN DOUSED IN KINDLING AND VOLATILE ELECTRICITY. I THINK MY GLOVES WERE BEING WEIGHED HERE AT SOME POINT, AFTER I LOST THEM TO GLOW IN HEAVEN FOR ABOUT TEN MINUTES WITH THE REST OF THE BELLIGERENT AND STALWART. THAT WHITE LIGHT MELTED THE CONSEQUALISM IN MY BACK POCKET LEAVING ME WITH NOTHING WORTHY OF LOSING OR NOTE. IT HURT.

            REACHING FOR RULERS AND LENGTHENING MEASURING TAPE THAT DRAINS ITSELF IN SMOKING BLOOD AND RECKLESS TOOTHSOME DIE-CASTING. I THINK MY MODELLING CAREER HAS HIT A SHUTTLECOCK TEMPORARILY TO THE EXPENSE OF YOUR COMPASSION AND ESCAPOLOGIST APOLOGIST NIMCOMPOOP SIGHING. THESE THINGS NEVER QUITE END AS SHARDED OR AS CONVENIENTLY AS PROMISED IN THE ADVERTS, THE LINES GET BLURRY AS YOU MEASURE THEM IN TOMATO GROVES. THE CELERY GROWS ITSELF IN BOTANICAL GARDENS TO THE TUNE OF A THOUSAND MINI COOPERS EXPANDING ON EXPERIENCED WORK EXPERIENCE OFFICERS DOING THE ROUNDS AROUND VARIOUS GARAGES AND LIBRARIES IN CASE THOSE SONS OF BITCHES FORGET THEIR FAITH OR DROP THEIR COIN PURSES. JOIN THE ARMY, THAT'S THEIR SLOGAN BECAUSE IT SAVES ON TOKENS AND OBLIGATORY CIGARETTE SMOKE. BIRDS OF DOOM, GLIMMERS OF SQUARES IN DISAPPOINTING LAND. A TALL HANDSOME WOMAN WHO MOSTLY PLAYS BRIDGE AND SARDINES BECAUSE ETERNITY IS REALLY A RATHER LONG CASE OF SHRINKING, WILL SHRINK DOWN TO WHISPER IN COATS AND SOME SMOKING JACKETS.

            DINNER IS SERVED IN RENTAL CARS BECAUSE THE COST OF SELF-RESPECT HAS RECENTLY BEEN BARRICADED IN THE SLUMS. STACKS OF GREEN WOOFS AND WOOFERS AND WOLVES IN SHEPHERDS' CLOTHING HAVE STRIDENTLY SLINKED OUT TO THE TUNE OF A TINNY PIANO CAUGHT BETWEEN TWO LARGE VOLUMES ON SWEATY BIOLOGY AND TEENAGE MISFORTUNE AS IT HAPPENS OR HAPPENED IN THE DAILY GRUNT AGE. THEY REALLY WOULD APPRECIATE YOU, THEY REALLY WOULD HAVE HAD YOU BOTHERED TO EXIST AT THAT POINT OF THE NIGHTMARE BUT THEN YOU AIN'T WANTING FOR WHAT YOU SEEM TO BE. YOU JUST WANT TO TURN UP THE TEMPO OF BOOZING IN THIS MICROSCOPIC CATASTROPHE ROOM. BUT AT LEAST THEY'RE PLAYING YOUR SONG IN A SALOON SOMEWHERE, AT LEAST THE VOUCHERS WILL MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE AND AT LEAST THE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES CAN BE PACKED IN A KITTEN'S FATTY SAC. JAZZ AS IT OCCURS IN THE NATURAL HABITAT OF A SMOKER.

And I, I just can't get past the judgement, can't avoid the burglary of my ideals by some bugger from Ipswich with his electrician's degrees and his limp wrist that only blocks him out when he breaks into Rock 'n' Roll



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