locust focus

sometimes i wonder what goes on in this fucking city. sometimes i picture bundles of bills laid out on a collapsing old wooden table, lined with blood, bottles and oil. all while i lay here, my eyes welded to the ceiling, watching my tee shirts and underwear sway in the wind on the clothesline in my room. she walks closer to the window. i hear her coughing echoing through the concrete hallway. i jump up in bed, turn over, just to watch her walk by. i stop her and quickly make something up to ask her. she ends staying longer than i thought. she couldn't make out my outline through the screen on the window but i could see those peacock feathered eyes clearer than the sun on the wet concrete after the storm.
my mind stalled like a teenager driving a stick shift. she became bored with me and stepped back and away into her purple and orange mis-matched, beautiful pattern of a world. i hung off my top bunk frozen for a little while, staring out the window. stuck. then sporadically tossed back over to stare at the underside of the roof again. i lit a cigarette. it tasted like the San Diego entrance of the US/Mexico Border and i lapped it up like one of East Africa's sickly desert dogs scrounging for water. why do i get stuck staring and blowing smoke into Adonai's heavy, light blue eyes? i think myself in circles defecating largely meaningless shit on paper. i become an animal, scurrying nervously back and forth in the sweltering rear seats of an out-dated, mid-size four door automobile in the center of a giant parking lot in front of some American multi-national franchise superstore.
no matter.
the jazz keeps blaring next to my bed, while the television in the dining hall keeps screaming the scores of todays football matches. i still stare. i pick up a Time magazine off the wax infested desk and read an article about crimes, globalization, and gangsterisms. new piano chords come through the broken speakers like little fireworks bursting in front of envious stars. one day soon i will step out under california sunshine and dance on that classic kind of rainbow gasoline. i will stand in true freedom, turn my palms upward and it will all explode. it will come out of me as the confetti does in times square when that giant cheap disco ball drops and the drunks make all kinds of new lovers. like constant wind chimes and stardust i will roam the deserts.
still staring at the ceiling. i cried while she picked me apart on the cold hard floor in the hallway. i brought her back in the room and we climbed up to my bunk and laid there 'till the sun shrugged. we wrestled in slow motion until nine thirty. she kissed my forehead before i climbed out of bed. i found a beer and an apple and sat at my desk. i still stared. out the window. i had to open the beer with my teeth i had no opener. as i sat she asked me what i was feeling. i replied, "as wax does on the side of the candle as it descends." "why do you say shit like that?" she said. "i know, sorry",i countered back. "i have no idea how i feel, maybe a little sick. like being kicked in the teeth", i said. "sorry, im doing it again" it was silent, i didnt mind. i was pretty sure she had fallen asleep already, like a bio-chemical war victim on a hospital bed. her chest slightly pulsing up and down while her covered eyes twitched as she dreamed of what only i could wish to see. of trains en route to St.Petersburg and bicycles in India carrying massive bouquets of flowers, like moving graffiti on England's London Underground, throwing fashion models and teenagers back and forth in concrete and brick pipes. clouds blooming and trees collapsing.
im still staring. tapping my pen on my cheek. windows are my television. i know its her last night in town but she can sleep right now. i threw my white shirt over my head, grabbed my smokes, a newspaper, and the keys to black, French tank. i slammed the door behind me and flung my jacket over my shoulder. i sprinted down the innumberable amount of stairs in my brown brick, satellite dish encrusted, flat tower. skipping every other stair on the way. i jumped to the bottom. i jogged across the car park and watched my breath escape from my lungs. yanking open the driver side door violently, i begged the truck to start. as i sat in, i turned her over and heard the deep growl begin. i was off. forcing neon signs and soaking wet concrete past. im still staring. out the windshield now. moving my arms and legs in strange mechanical movements. staring straight forward. i didnt even know where i was going, i didnt care. either way it was far and fast, and thats all i wanted. its funny how the smallest, most usual thing can drive you up the wall. like a fly that keeps returning for moisture, pestering your eyes and mouth. or a splinter under fingernail. it just proves that trying to get away is useless. people are always telling me "youre to hard on yourself" or "your own thinking is gonna get you down". the problem is, i keep finding new truths in my thinking. its hard to stay away from things you know and feel are correct.
red light "FUCK!" i thought and screamed as i dropped 100,000 bricks on the brake pedal. i ended the squealing of hawks under my tyres in the center of the intersection. completely surrounded. thirty some odd headlights. all of them. staring. staring at me as i stare back. moments pass and horns begin to blare, as i slowly shift her into reverse and slide the truck backwards towards my place in line. i waited. still staring. staring at the aignal with my foot hovering over the accelerator like an impatient school boy waiting for the bell to ring. stomped on it and the truck leaped forward, careening through the city. as i turned up the main road on ramp, my phone rang. it was her, screaming at me to come home. she was crying my name as i threw the phone in the seat next to me.
i tore up the motorway as if i were on fire. a good old song came on the radio and everything went silent, except for the song. as i accelerated faster, i rolled my eyes back and covered them with my eyelids. i became suspended, and felt Adonai's breath on my body. my limbs sawyed as the trees do and my mind began to slowly blink like the blood coloured lights on the corners of skyscrapers do while guiding massive steel birds to the edge of the earth. in the hands of the God Of Machines, i fell. asleep and released as i careened into the concrete wall of the center divide. causing flowers and fireworks to bloom from the wreckage.

mechanisms are alight
dark curtain cover
the scarce concrete
in a cargo truck graveyard
next to the turbo hot rod space traveling astro cars
swirling engines
shaking my teeth
rumbling the earth
like legions of pigs
clammoring to see the edge of the cliffs
to end the futility
with steel war insects
scouring the air displacing bombs over tokyo

blackpool flat towers

apeggios

peacock feathered eyes
bells chasing each other
limbs suspended
cradled in deep heavy blue

lights silently slowly pulsing
guiding airplanes
to the edge of the earth
in to the hands of the
deux es machina(god of machines)

hit the bottom
the motorway still slightly breathing
spin in circles
tears roll out my eyes
like being poked with a needle

my bones sink
my eyes drop
i am a ghost again
dust
gas
sweet release

bleeding bellies of Europe

im not one to brag but...i took this

the end of Pax Americana

the end of Pax Americana
our global stranglehold
our corvette love
waning in power
with foots in our mouths
we bow to the east

the wind ominously wisps
while koreans train to cheat death
the Nigerian young man
prophesys destruction
foreseeing what i foresaw
years ago
how little miss USA
is the reincarnation
of little miss Rome
when historians write about this time
what will they document?
The American Industrialised Empire
television authorities
internet watchdogs
thought police
the uncle sam staring contest
red, black and blue
the scars and strippers
overlord underdog
one nation under minding
poor sweet baby
the baseball game of the season
the box office hit
making love with the
south
east
and north
In US We Trust

Woe to Blackpool

noble english sage
speaking of beauty lost
and gypsies
tearing through blackpool
american air force
with their cash
perverting
this town
is a
black neon rainbow
keep it behind
closed doors
anglo-saxon tribe
story teller
mayhem
stags and hens
making blight in this city
north shore
arcades
central
bused to be raped
south shore
pleasure beach
illuminations
flashing lights
caberet girls
carbon characters
God Still Loves Us
suicide alley
i weep for her
i weep for her
with my hands in the air
tears in my eyes
im coming out
im coming out
i weep for her
blackpool
dark queen of the north
i weep for her

humming wet glass

powerstation smokestacks alined with
broken bleeding pigs
falling off the cliffs in imaculate sycronisation

tribal warfare accompanied by
native drum claps on paint cans and car doors
the fourth reich
the third world war
apocolypse is the new neon

turn me now kid
get yourself going
watch the mirror
youre the sound of glass huming
under wet fingertips

spiders with legs perched behind lace
have no business in our bedsheets
weve got to make it to the sunrise
steam comes over the rooftops

the engines will roar

teeth on the curb
blood on the chassis
skin on the tarmac
petrol on the qur'an
spit on the martyr
end of the day
all out the speaker
drawn, hanged, and quartered
battersea gallows alight
when the bastards feet drop
burn the witch
sound the stereos, the car horns as well
die motoren werden brullen(the engines will roar)
wenn die fauste in die luft schlagen(as the fists hit the air)