mosquito bitten

sun-burnt and dehydrated

we trudge through the swamp

so that’s the story

have i told you this before?

i lose track sometimes

having faith in doubt
all metaphysical thought
stems from fear of death

there is no bus home
everyone singing a song
that i didn’t know

i’m in a sitcom

i’m swimming in the harbour

my limbs lose function

my gun misfires

scorch-marks lash across my hands

i hear rabbits laugh

banished as a child

a world inside a painting

slowly rots away

it was past midnight
the sky filled with UFOs
i’d lost my camera

an old puzzle box
that opens a door to hell
two quid from oxfam

this is what i chose
and make of that what you will
it seemed so simple

the plane dips and rocks

the vast desert beneath us

how did i get here?

i’m not welcome here

i have nowhere else to go

scratching at the door

my lab up in flames

attacked by a giant wasp

mondays! am i right?

i suppose it was alright while it lasted