With one foot cold and one foot warm
I am watching the still people
Heavy-eared and large mouthed
I smile and they smirk, raise an eyebrow, cough.

Am I that despicable?
Is my hair that gold?

Now I am invisible and I let the noise in
Pale, scented tendrils caress and plait my hair
Like candles
They flicker and whisper, fling kisses into my ear
And burn things into my neck-skin.

Can no longer breathe.
Can no longer listen.

For fear of disturbing them.

Seduction of a five year old.
She told them her feet were cold.

She was limp and uninviting
Short haired and dreaming
Of dragonfly wings in the morning
Of milkless Nutri-Grain
Of learning how to whistle
And a dog named Pixie.

It's the red on my lip
And the twenty dollar tip.
Umbrellas in my pockets
Child dreams of blasting rockets.

And still they launch.

It's the bile in my throat
And it's everything she wrote.
Your sweet naivity
Of baby blue and gold nativities.

And still they launch.

Will it take a body bag to believe me?
Will it take nothingness to relieve me?

(She's sweating in the middle of a cold night
Her grandmama says "it's not good, it's not right.")

Is it love? Is it gout?
I've left my door open
So you can walk out

Is there nothing beneath my coat, this doubt?

All I can smell is the gingerbread men
Marching between the sheets
With red hats and sweet treats

They don't know how to act
Which roleplay to enact

For the voice that pleases me
Is hiding in the deep blue sea
They whimper and they feel
All the things they could not heal
And run as far as their sweet calves
Can manage.

She is the glass woman
One look and you're shattered

Forget everything that mattered
Your heart is in tatters

There's some blood on your neck
That gets you unawares
It's her love, it's her love
The way to show she cares

She is the glass woman
One touch and you're in pieces

Spread out upon a linoleum floor
The stupid fool she couldn't hold on for.

My eyes keep rolling back into a perfect sky
I've learnt to become the silent passerby
My steps become a lullaby
Night is not the time to cry

I'll just keep passing by
Won't look you in the eye
Won't ask you for the time
The bus is not the place to cry

My hands are weak they will not grip
They cannot wave or point or rip
Hanging limply by my side
Screaming out loud is not the way to cry

A short black dress with two sugars.

Grinds in the pockets and in between the tiles
Kicking colt legs and tiny little smiles
Nails stained brown held fast to spinning dials
Flirting with the coffee drains, milk for miles.

He was tall and uninviting
Bald and simply frightening
Didn't knock or call to me
Just walked into the deep blue sea
And out again. One. Two. Three.

He piano played and tapped his feet
In my cold dark room it was a treat
Until he cried and turned to me
Reached out his hand and stared at me
And floated away. One. Two. Three.

In my mouth he'd placed a finger
For eternity it seemed to linger
Until he withdrew and he was done
And that was my dream. Three. Two. One.

I woke up in a cold sweat
Said it wasn't a real threat
Tried to forget his salty thumb
And went back to sleep. Three. Two. One.

I shall pull my hat down over my ears
And wear my glasses dark
Upon this world, so huge and white
I shall hardly make a mark

I shall lay still and smiling, composing things
And chased by dreams that won't forsake me
Waiting for time to sink deeper down
And a kiss from your lips to wake me.

You cling to your clothes and laugh, laugh, laugh
It's so much fun to be
Engulfed in space, treading on air
A thousand miles from me.

So I built a rocket and three, two, one
I'm flying towards you, my love
I can hardly see, it spins so fast
Until there is nothing above.

But I went too far north
And now I'm on top, sixty seconds too far,
We're destined to be, fated to be
Torn, me and you- apart.

I miss you so much that I can't hang up
We have to count and count and count
My mouth gets caught on ahundredandfive
The sum of my love's amount.

I am huge.

Entirely insulated and engulfing you
This city is nothing to my appetite.

I chew it up and spit it out.
It's the confetti on my carpet
I let the bricks and bones sit there for days and days.

My teeth are aching.

For the metal and the velvet, the glass windowpanes
That shine deliciously in the afternoon sun
With all the pride and innocence
Of a siren.

The pavement is calling me
From the roof of the high rise, I look down
And imagine the grit and blood
In my mouth.

And
sometimes
she
just
can’t
answer
the
phone

For
fear
of
the
uncertain
and
the
unknown.

They're scared of me
They're scared of me
They shut my door and shiver

(Just shut the door and forget her
She'll hurt you with her eyes
There's nothing worse
Than seeing that hearse
Within her dead doll eyes)

I'm a rarity
And they're scared of me
They shake their heads precariously
They shiver and spit on me silently
From behind the wooden door.

She's as lonely as a picture
And there's no one left to look
Upon her gilded glittering frame
Dangling from its hook.

Her angles have been touched and kissed
Caressed with crazy fingers
Wanting, needing something more
Than her eyes that never lingered.

But now she's back in the stock room
With the Klein that no one could stand
Waiting to be kissed and touched again
In that white-walled, art-filled land.

There's a hickey on his heart
But he has nothing to complain
He got it from a cigarette
A velvet smiling flame

All fingernails and lipsticked lips
Made trails down his spine
He didn't feel a single thing
Just laughed and mumoured "fine"

And now it's just too fucking late
To realise what she'd done
The hickey on his little heart
Grew big and then it won.

You’re just a small white dot in the middle of the sea
Barefoot, blind and entwined with me

Took off your shoes and said nothing at all
Was easier that way- not to fall, to fall
Into something else, out of our depths
Where my toes don’t touch and I take small breaths

Drag your eyes over here and show me
Just how pretty you can be
Drag your mouth over here and teach me
Just how pretty we can be

The other night I was on your shoulders real tall
It was so easy to fall, to fall.

(The butterfly bird was in my hand and shook
Its death feathers quietly into the sand.)

Then we were back in the middle of the sea

You

Barefoot, blind and entwined with me.

Do you hear that sound?
It's called rain.
Do you feel that sound?
It's called pain.

That curtain really is too sheer
The businessmen, they get too near
They know they have nought to fear
Because that girl, she cannot hear.

She's deaf and blind and mute and dumb
Barely dares to chew her thumb
Just sits and beats upon a drum
Waiting for that man to come.

It seems she was just another fleeting impression
Meddling amongst your moments of transgression

Tired, dog eared, tucked into your retro suitcase
Memento of some eighteen year old embrace.

And sometimes she just can’t answer the phone
For fear of the uncertain and the unknown

She just lets it sit and hum, what else can she do?
And in any case, anyway- it’s never you.

It’s never you.

Growing divorced from that town, those faces
Falling into this city, these spaces

But somehow never quite learning to stay awake
Sleep is the only thing she doesn’t have to fake.

(It’s free and it’s clean

It’s safe just to dream.)

(and the heart, well it hurt- and it turned out that nothing could separate the vertebrae and from that day on he only got to look at children.)

So there we have it.
With string beans and string dreams
I am touching my hair
Waiting for you
And a piece of toast.

The toaster belonged to the other people
With elusive identities and close acquaintances
(People to hug at night, to bake a casserole with)
You never know if they are not at home
Or just pressed against their pillows
Listening to the trombone next door
And waiting for me to get out of the kitchen.

So I am as quick as I can
Hands over the toaster steam
Don’t get distracted, don’t remember previous slices of bread
Previous hands and eyelashes
That have fallen down into the network of wires
Sitting next to a group of crumbs
And discussing the political climate
Of the one bedroom flat.

It’s unnatural and cruel, a perfect ridicule
Of everything that’s right.

Spat out of bed, Labrador limbs
And a heart to match- awkward and angled
Stardust spangled
With all the words of a newborn
But no strange greetings.

It’s silent and still dark, trees in grey bark
Gowns.

They are cold against my hands
As I caress them and wait for the 373

It’s peculiar to see, the strangers and me
Our fumbling of cards and change
Some weird ritual, and yet
United and helpful
(Her arm on mine as the bus lurches).

It’s absurd and a shame, this strange little game
That comes to an end
Just as our eyes loosen themselves of sleep
Just as the sun raises an arm in salute
Of us little men.

And suddenly it’s clear.

I am crying with the man whose hips take up the whole seat.
Everyone is avoiding his eyes, stepping wide
Trying to hide
From the noises he is making in his sleep
(Wild dreams of skin and toast).

The business man
Don’t understand.
His wife just swept her hand through her hair
Across to the other side of the bed
And found it cold.

Sedimental sentiments
Are sinking through my skin
Past the realm of compliments
And things to put them in

The tupperware is cracked, you see
It's sticky garlic-plastic
Has refused to hold another phrase
Of sickly staunch sarcastic

I trust no one, not even myself
Crosslegged at the botom of the Great Smog
Listless, pill-less, heartless
Nothing to write home about
But the power built on powder
The castles made of candy
And thirty thousand lakes, rivers and reservoirs
Taking their toll on my budget.

He reached for her hand but she pulled away
He reached for her wrist but it was withered and grey
He reached for her hem but she coughed and shook
He reached for her face but she had swallowed a book

Poor darling, my darling
All limp and lame
Un-crossing your legs
To star dust and fame.

Tumble dry now and sleep for the night
Tucked into my pocket of the shirt with the kite
You know? You know!
All is not lost
Just a look to the left
To see what your heart hates most.