Friday, 25 September 2009


My muse lies sleeping
perfect visage
mangled in repose
snot leaking from her nose

Lofty dreams
in the gutter
taking flight
between a rock and lost grace
hell and high maintenance
oceans of belief
in dry dock

My muse lies puking
around a bucket
by her bed
what dreams I asked
are lost
in the cesspit of her head