Not Long Left Poems

summers breeze,
hay feveres killing spree,
summers stench of sex,
hope for you is to complex.
...

like a tiny full stop stuck between two beautiful words,
like a grey mishapen pebble on a beach of a million other pebbles,
like a the tiny marks in between the numbers on a clock,
like a child in a crowd of shouting adults,
...

It is only when you roll over
in dizzy drunken slumber,
with sleepy spittle seeping
from your dry mouth,
...

For who ever this does reach,
on some foriegn sandy beach,
I sent this from southend pier,
2005 was the year.
...

He stopped me not far from home
Told me straight he wanted my phone
'leave of mate' I nervously said,
then he grinned and punched me straight in the head.
...

Upon the endless spine
of motorway they challenge
the black of night.
Those that burn
...

In the gutters of love street I crawl
Drenched in the drawl of this pitiful
city. Among the littered remains of
leftover pains, peering over the edge
...

As the organ grinded out the sighs
of christs's last thoughts
she surrendered herself to faith
A mortal action of release
...

Dried islands of paint crumble under my feet
blue walls shed decades, peeling off the past.
Fragments of weather beaten wall are scattered
upon the deserted dance floor. The only sound
...

Under the pink glow
of the plastic lamp
she brushes her
...