Chaotic and unstable to
See things in black/white.
Negative images rolled out on film,
See wrinkles as white,
See sun as black.
Dramatic-erratic with a propensity to/
Multiple inter-personal relationships
And the ability to down pints in
A glass standing empty
Unable to be touched
And denied its validity.
Split its white head
From noir body,
Foaming gently yet
Bitter to taste.
In search of lost time/
A la recherche du temps perdu.
More data than I can hold
In my head/
Spills out in violent coloured letters
In a stream of unstoppable force.
I place my hand to cover the hole immerging
Yet it yawns bigger,
A black spot with sides caving in.
The skin peels back as on a
Mouldy peach/ too easily freed.
Whilst eyes bulge and pop from sockets,
Hanging on by their loose tentricles/
Nerves twitching once escaped
From their shelled skull.
This lovingly crafted vial of emptiness,
Once created unknowingly in a
No sound or fury creeps out of mouth,
Instead its scream is silent
And lasts for eternity.
Finally the head roles back
Before tipping in its momentum forward
Till it rests chin to chest.
A statement/ empty gesture,
A final nod to the futility of ‘being’,
of owning, of I/
And yet dispite nothing being nothing,