#25

Elvis hasn't left the building, he's just hanging.

#24

So have you heard that when you die your body weighs 23 grams less?
Yes I'm being serious. Fuck having a soul, I'm all wood shavings!
What do i look up for? Because you're poking that goddamn camera in my face and I need to get my best Argos pose.

#23

Yes, yes its all true...
Gays and that AIDS thing and the eyes being too close together and that. I blame Cilla Black though. These God-forsaken Intelligent Designers, they keep fingering Darwin.

#22

I guess I'm out of a job then?

#21

no i can't see, if you moved the glasses with the picture of a nostril reflected in the right lens out of my eyeline then i'd be just dandy thank you very much

#20

to the right two kids are fighting
as three birds fly over earl grey,
they both look for a moment
her cheeks are cold
and she taps her wedding ring on the stand
everything is moving and everything is still

#19

a piece of cotton thrown unevenly
the threads tightly interwoven fray
loosely in the middle
each share an intimate piece of the other
some a tear at the end
some a tear at the beginning
some share nothing but their difference

#18

a nihilistic hamster breaks bread then eats it
offers his hand in consolation
"the world is plagued by indecision"
pokes his head through his bronze closet
and offers some philosophical putter
"life is an overturned ferris wheel"
he'll be dead in two years

#17

what time is it?
i had to look at my watch twice
a numbing ache hummed around the back of my head
the bus was late again
and i had nothing to say to fill the silent gaps
so i grabbed her and wandered with my tongue

#16

i remember when i was there
and i never did get to see it
we walked the block around
security fencing and pale men in suits
Isaac Norris grinning in his boots
the night before it had rained
and the mud spread butter-like across the road
kitschy amish women in buggies waited at the traffic lights
uncertain, but still, hanging nostalgia
from the liberty bell

#15

you spent most of your time in there
now it's rusted, cobwebs hold it shut
when you left everyone missed you
the letting go isn't easy
some of you is still in there

#14

the razor's edge holds no truth
except to cut right at the root
except to tell what lies beneath
that it must grow again
the odd one lies fallen, but content just to lie
you'll pick it up again tomorrow
and another few will die

#13

i touched its skin wrinkled,
a gunshot wound, perhaps, never healed
draws the eye to its middle
surrounded in green, belittled
another reaches out for it
but its bony hand only grasps

#12

the distance between the flames,
that which is real and that which is unreal
depends on perspective
the aura it gives tells of the heat it contains and expels
there's a party going on,
the light dances in and out of the glass
your heart is beating about as fast
and though i can only see from my side
i'm in love with the distance

#11

...look he's over there packing the car with groceries
oh, but did you see what she was wearing?
i dont know how she gets away with it?
if i were him i'd have ran a mile
yeah well some people'd rather finish what they've started
and some people just run around in circles
its all the same as far as i'm concerned
the finish line looks the same as the start

#10

in the other room Billie Holliday sings
"dont know why, there's no sun up in the sky"
you cross your legs,
brushing off the crumbs falling from the biscuit you've been munching
a comforting rumble issues inside of you
a cold tin caressed close to your stomach
the television flickers from channel to channel, a restless exhibition of other peoples lives - fuck andy warhol
out of the window something more important is happening,
somewhere

#9

you were going to tell him eventually
at work you'd inform them of each mornings progress
it was wednesday when you happened to mention it
something completely unrelated triggered the event
tears, pleas and compromises
yet behind his eyes, a kind of relief
"the milkman, who'd have even guessed?"

#8

he whittled you down till you were nothing
each day scraping a little bit more off
the point came when you stopped complaining
one morning you found yourself
outside in the garden
dewy wet, a damp shell

#7

cars rumble by outside
shouting, the kicking of pebbles
within these walls the silence and the breathing
you sit by the phone but no one calls
i make conversation with the wind