My eyes are sutured
can feel the threads,
I stitched them together
stoned out of my head,
Seemed like a good idea,
or so my friends said,
Glue would have been better,
now I can only see red.
My jaws where broken,
teeth wired together,
High on drugs again,
under more peer pressure,
They dared me to down
extra large measures,
Got a pool cue across my face,
carried out on a stretcher.
Yeah I’ve done mad stuff,
and bear the scars,
Causing trouble, acting tough
in trashy cheap bars,
Drank melted shoe polish,
washed down with bubble bath,
Following day I paid for it,
you do the math,
So next time on a binge,
know your own limits,
The whole future can change
in a few short minutes,
Spend life behind bars,
just for being complicit,
Lose count of the shots,
its Perspex visits.
By
David Kavanagh
A timed lesson in diameter of dialogue is akin to eating a vast amount of bean. But buttering a heron should never really be performed in a new moon. So hesitate not by the tropical bowl whose ideology is to seek and retract. Such a testament to an earthenware cup. And saucers know where the spoons are hidden so plot grid lines accordingly. Merely a spin on a silver table. Merely an itemised innermost inherited inhabitant. Rotating squirrels on a static seesaw seldom swear. Oh look wow indeed. Is the appearance of the hexagonal formations. Mineralization of a pool cue with a tennis ball. Hahahaha garters grabbing games. Hahahaha and a fish tail swirling slowly around in a glass. Triangular glass. Hahaha number of triangles and circles swarming empathically. Now rise really relaxing remember reading red. Xxxxx miniscule mammoths munching mulberries. And a rabbit watching a wallaby whistling. Xxxxx fermentation z z z . P y q z and a f g h z z Z
When I walk into a barroom and every one looks up
I get the weirdest feeling I’m not there
When I walk into a barroom and they all look away
I feel I’ve never been in their affair
Now reading a barroom aint like reading in a book
There’s a lot of things that need a second look
There’re some I never stayed in
An some I wished I left
And that fella with the pool cue’s
Way too tall
Now I can run a table
Sometimes even four
But here I think I’ll settle for the door
Easy money needs an open floor
An that shark has lost a bite to me before
Just thoughts of times spent waiting for the rush hour traffic to leave
And memories of losing and winning