18 June 2008



she looked like a Crumb cartoon
all arse and legs
firm and muscle though
more than enough
for one man
or even me
who looked like a cartoon
of rebellious youth
only older

but for a short while
I believed in my cartoon strip
and I lived the life
of the character therein

until I stepped over
the border
and the punch line
wasn’t funny anymore

five senses

there’s still a trace of her scent
on my fingers
and I breathe it in
to try and keep the moment

her taste still on my lips
brings back the other memories
that look of pure lust
and borderline insanity
fifty dollar underwear
and the sound of leather on skin

I want to preserve these moments
imprint them before they’re gone
because it’s better to regret
the things you have done
than the things you haven’t
and my heart holds few regrets

her scent keeps me there
on the cusp
of memory and moment
and I drink it in
knowing I’m already in too deep
and that someone
is going to get hurt
but this time
it could be me

sunday afternoon 2pm

Voice gone, dick failed
ears wide open
and the Deadboys live
the neighbours banging on the wall
as I lay back on the couch
and raise another beer
to a life lost
another life found
and my own life
as fake as it is
like the redubbed vocals
on this “live” album
but we all cheer anyway
and I get up
turn the record over
and fall back on the couch
without spilling a drop

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