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