Strike Three

 

Anomaly Man mumbles and roams

Like the one who’s one with foam

Can’t drink up his cup of haste

‘Cause his smiles is full of holes

And his time, it’s like a paste

Squeezing through a hose

 

Through the backdoors of his brain

Past air vents and withered roots

In the hint of husky lights

Gargoyles slither on the roofs

Drooling guidance in the pipes:

“You should keep up with the noose”

 

A seeping malice like a drone

Reels a skid mark in his clouds

And sunshine proves a piss puddle

The night is curling like a storm

Down the barrel of the rumble

He can just make out the bottom

 

The ground is gummy and the stars are caving in, you know where you’re going

And all the colours have relocated

To the voice you’ve designated

And your heartbeat is in orbit, and your self is so hazy

And you keep your skull busy with words and lines and promises

But the killing night is not ending

And you haven’t slept in years

 

Dreams make brittle handles

And letters poor company

Like every made-up word

In your decoy dictionary

 

Abnormally Man rambles and moans

Like the one who has no home

Can’t spit out his hiding place

‘Cause his voice is full of stones

And he’s dying for a taste

Of wherever she goes

 

And everything with a soul

Just rewinds him of her

And every stare is a spur

And each smile is a snare

And a sigh is all it takes

For a feather to flare

​

He followed her coordinates

And it’s no ordinary place

In the strangely disarming sight

Of the residual day

And the barely born twilight

Greets the bottom on its way

 

The sharp chill in your marrow tugs at your closet strings, nigh is the time of skeletons

Borrowed bedrooms and cardboard birds

Razor weeds in the ferns

And your diary’s a parking lot

For getaway desires

And how faithful a friend is pain

Bitter sweet and sober

 

And you bang your hands bloody

On the doors of Trainwreck Inn

Where Burroughs and Bukowski

Breed up brand new ways to scream

 

And the three-masted ships sail through your freezing migraines

And the monarch of mood swings stomps and tramples on your ribs

And the disembodied heads of the mannequins pretend to be alive and well

And the mermaid of maybes is making wind chimes with your spine

You’re in the phonebooth telescope and Callisto’s on the line

 

Amourbidly Man rattles and rolls

Like dead leaves when the wind blows

Can’t stop running his lost race

‘Cause it’s the only road he knows

And he wouldn’t see a dead-end

If it went and broke his nose

 

Alarum rams bray down the gates

Skin melting in his fingers

And the bells, and the drapes

And his tribe, they howl her name

As the morning creatures fade

Not a silence to spare

 

And his heart is quite content

With taking detours round itself

And planting poems in her desk

But her tender indifference

Delicately leaves a trace

And the bottom’s on his case

​

You stare like a dead child at the subway tracks pouring in from the dark

The words that she says they frizzle over you

And you’re so bloated and you’re so hollow too

You can’t save her, she won’t let you

And there’s lead in the air

And there’s lead in your head

And hot glue down your gills

Keeping pearls like they’re pills

 

Your griefs in clogs and tangles

Fuel your comatose alarms

And they pile up like ripples

On your sorry nest of psalms

 

Abnormidable man you’ve raved and you’ve roved

Your wells have run dry, your engines are cold

You’ve got wind in your veins and soot in your soul

You’ve got to melt your marble barricade

Learn to combust and suffocate

And let your heart hum aloud again

 

The curtain-coloured lights

Are dim or dead on the stage

Billy Shaky and his delights

Softly poured like a prayer

You keep them around for tall nights

Pocket playwright for quick repairs

 

Your glazed-over gaze

And your roughly sewn crust

And your narrow wastes

And your well-rounded rust

And your love-by date

And your bargain-bin lust

 

And nobody looks at you twice

Skimming the surface will suffice

And if she lingered on your eyes

She would dip through your drab disguise

But when she does, you fossilize

And recycle her in rhymes

 

And you say, could you please keep your voice down, it’s getting pretty crowded in here

You’re moulded and modified

Squeeze the rain from a rock

Pick a name from the pile

This loose new skin’s like a killed kite

Come carve me up

Take a big bite

​

I’ve been jingle-dangling

From a dead-end dial tone

And the only way down

Is through the bone

 

The only way down

Is through the bone

 

2025