Entry Wound
Getting this party started, put out the lights
the dead don’t need the money, a conservative guess.
Drinking to enlightenment, foot across foot
intelligent factions held to the extreme.
Excellence in form, scathe to one’s foundations
an eyeball to radio another safe bet,
realising certain values, prayed for indefinitely
softening stances where none left to go.
Reading taking its time, tripping off the tongue,
illicit beer fashions a weekend away
reading into briar’s eventual crown,
behold the off-scouring of the world, detached.
Gainful employment, declared through song,
spoken word will eventually have its say,
editing through colouring the lost notebook
hurtling over policy realised through effort.
Resurrecting crass mistakes, prayed for solitude
cascading the bonfire of vain performance
cleaning up nicely at a haggard expense
eating without ensure a golden deity.
Washed and dried away, beloved by many
coffee in an instant shrills the purgatorial
declarative in fear of another’s inkling
coldly going where none has gone before.