Ornamental Onion (Armies of Me)

eventually a time will come when we move strangely with strangers

eventually a time will come when ornamental skins slime

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colour him green with white dots is a garden – disaster is a long way down

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he imagined himself & he was SO MANY COLOURS & he was pouring out the window

& he was puddling on the ground

& he loved the feel free falling

& he wore the hairy view

he wore the tits slung sideways, he wore the bragging hole, he loved the dodgy downer, he wore the dangling balls, he loved the real alive, he wore the

DROP

DRASTIC

COMES TRUE

DERMO-STABBER

FORGET-ME-NOTTER

30 FOOT SPLATTER

NOW

clown him acrobatic descent

spread him bubblegum carpet

frazzle him gutter kebab

cosy him comatose pocket

soak him leaking bladder

warm him reeking arse

speed him indecent

teeth will tear him apart

& he bled dogs

& he wished wheelchairs

& he kissed disastrous

his mouth a scrimping lack

i want to stand without him

i want to stand where he fell

i want to stand where armies of me are up-rooting geraniums, plagued by tulip, mad for rose, spliced by his message – planted, watered, bone

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colour him a bigger NOW

with more captivating & convoluted & charismatic holes – slashed slovenly

his finer fabric peeks through

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I married the alarming Mick O’LaLa & we rode the desert on his llama

today’s background lacks depth & he took SO MANY COLOURS & the shadow he casts is his pecker

i can see it out the corner of my eye – velvet dense blot, glooming night-time, swelling in his smalls

he said: stop looking for pristine days & get loose, like trapeze woman

i said: i’ve a scar on my left knee, a scar on my right big toe, a scar on my left cheekbone, two on my belly & one inside my belly-button in the shape of the cross

he said: break those bones & see what comes of it

i divided & i separated. my legs came away from my body. i became two blobs of flesh inside my elegant shoes

I married the disarming Mick O’LaLa & he sowed his seeds like a farmer

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i want to stand where i can comprehend his miscalculated equations

i want his mystery

I WANT ARMIES OF ME

i want to be free where prisons of me do time

i want to feast where sanatoriums of me slowly waste away

i want to dazzle where fireworks of me fizzle in the rain

i want to laze where troupes of me perform the dizzy fandango

i want to sing where swarms of me sting his corpse rot skin

i want to sleep where hordes of me embezzle his safety blankets

i want to party where therapy groups of me bawl my sorry eyes out

i want to scream where waiting rooms of me worry about my meds

i want to spread my legs where nunneries of me count my sins on rosaries, pray for my elastic soul, flagellate my lusting flesh, suffer for my pleasure, fake my mortal measure

I WANT CONGREGATIONS OF ME

LIGHTING CANDLES

SINGING HYMNS

for me

i want to dwarf the average-sized me cowering in the corner

i want to love the traumatised me struggling to leave the house

i want to laugh in the face of every gargoyle morning

i want to spin myself on the spokes of every moment

i want to out-do myself for the sake of my fucked-up life

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i want him to hold me in his isosceles angle

i want him to hook me on his tortured tangent

i want him to bisect me on the apex of his tongue

i want him to break me on the glassy slopes of Mount Hurtle

i want so much more of him

I WANT TO LIVE

i want to live where i can sense him as a presence not an absence

i want to live where graveyards of me mulch in soggy coffins

i want the line of mutes on my doorstep suddenly breaking their silence

i want to pelt from the steaming sky in a manic hail of bullshit

i want to fly in sharpened blades & harm his gaping target

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i want orgies of me gripping bulk with strangers

i want polygon beings with pronounced reticulars shagging me on his sofa

i want leather-clad stag beetles wielding knuckle-dusters knee-trembling me up his wall

i want mystical ship-shape elemental extensions riding me rough in his heavens

i want dark matter on darker mattress pinning my hips to his

i want turbulent prisms of bare metal yesterdays percolating mine eyes with his glory

i want to spit in his eye

i want many & every toppling diadem yelling the news on my good foot

i want to get on the bad foot

i want to kick his teeth in

i want to stick him on my pages

i want my right royal wages

i am me & i rages

i want to relapse with him forever & ever & never live sober again

i want MANY MEN

i want bigger tits

i want special bits

i want him who fits

my empty

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eventually a time will come when me is me is mine

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