Couple of drafts from Radio Nostalgie
SEWER MUSIC
"Whack out all the eyes for tank music"
Although sharing gutsy pom poms in night vision
This is an ultimate pet shop where boys are stew
Outside midnight sewer packets motoring down
Or crawling as we take the mike to bite
For peppered hives or jangling leisure crews
That otherwise nascent sputum artexed for the Cup
Phone in now for zither music my terminus is empty
As though wrapping tiny feet could matter
Each soothing each with prepared segs
In the burning attempt to love the General
To lift a total combined killing frame that band
Or plastic monster left nightly on her dimpled skin
For lost tillage for the okay earth to supply
Opening the fridge doors so we can stay forever
Tonight each mongrel life shines with foreign news
Seventies tunes of detox as borax swills about
Outside my used retardant curtains and shards
We laugh all day in pale striata
Or fade in the treasure box loath to mix with them
Heaving ceremony aside to tax the meaty city
Fabulous lux / all stinking neophytes all
Fabrication sitting close to our "neighbours"
While all along my cousins blush for weaponry
For parasites in heaven you're just a tart
Coming in on my leaf-strange aisle my sex my bowel
My tan-coloured once and for all iridescent prism
Now burn my purple sounds and let creamy Perspex fox
This armadillo life in plebeian chintz and retakes
Retching in perpetual glass and co-op shuttle buses
Saggy condoms dandering by the bright canal
Caught in beards of vetch like perfect answers
Those cauterised imperial factories smoking
Too sallow for reflection on wintry bodies
Old electrification of causal notes and singing
This is entirely beautiful up in the nite club
Each chance locating us in banal toga parties
A life of loose change and not a stitch to tear
Cute and bubbly with the moistened ghost
TUNING IN
The sergeants turning on their trolleys
Crackling for miles upstream
Always hooked-up with lard and liver spots
Sliding and sliding in narrow procession
Almost in tune with perpetually hissing corn
The whole thing twisting under cyclic breezes
Or gathering Euclidean phosphor bursts
Above the cheesy skin of feet we change tapes
It is all in parallel cementing veins
Treating this remedial scrim of lips
Still trying for industrial bellies
As the rippling freaks shake off their bonds
Some tubular beds displaying friends
All marking time with rivets and rubber sheets
While each concocts black theatre
With lit-up breath and lilac cankers of a kind
Should it establish the mouth wound
Or can we be wet inside the kissing fields'
Stubs and stems beyond the thermic barrier
And chronically dull gas
Machinery as sumptuous as pistons shines
While Mother leans towards her mealy rivers
Crushing those long-determined eggs
Or losing cartilage in oiled evenings us we sit
Listening to taped Armenian hymns to dirt
Lolling in a fuselage of damaged hits
This torpid limited system
Witnessing elected scratches
Where each charming eye
Registers the collective sin and melts
To plastic fists swaggering in the savage buy out
Bent under carbines and cagey Memphis kings
A lewd percentage hitting gongs for grub
Or increasing freebies at the start of the day
And all the fraudulent indemnity
Of open song
Instead just dry dry earth and tickets
The paternoster shelves of that taxonomy
A finicky labial clicking in the throat
My mystic Utah voting still with tiny throats
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