Incompatible, haemorrhaging  decimal points - from the hand of greed
Unbeknownst to those without a quant or quality
Death & equality
Money or sodomy
And if you’re asleep, then let’s coalesce
An acrid past in an acid bath
Xylem & phloem
Stockbrokers wilting into ordinance through capital
Yet another example of the cyclic futility of inebriation
Built up by bondage, encouraged by intolerance
A needle full of cement and a casual whiff towards sentiment
You are a component, insufferable but worthless
The vacant unmeasured tenants of reality
Consumed by a silver lining laced with Ambien
Cocaine won’t make you indestructible
Prepare for a weak heart, fat arse and sports cars
Fake tan dribbling from your million dollar dandy
Into the lead-infested neuropolis named ‘fertility’
And if we can’t ‘predict’ economic downfall
Then we must ‘ensure’ it with social prosperity
All watched over by machines of loving grace
Left under clawed toes and prayers with bent backs
Clothen ears, earwax, anxiety and a box full of Vicodin
You…Don’t know where you stand because you never knew
No new news, an insemination to propagation, fruitless
Seeded in tongues with an emulsified analogue of the truth
A compound, molecular in structure, stable, nootropic
Gods gift, ink on paper, weightless
Where is the honesty in currency? Money? Trade?
I’ve made what I’ve made, you make, you don’t make
Energy fades, everything fades
Our lives are mistakes
Ghosts of a digitised embellishment
We’re not smart
We are knowledgeable
We are insane
We are a texture in patterns in vibrations
Unprecedented, Eden, monolith
Yemen, Syria, Egypt
Glazed over with apathy, rejecting attentiveness
Global pandemic
Do you think you do enough?
Enough to warrant subjectivity and an opinion?
Social pariah, religious ignorance, indifference
1929, JSOC, Malcolm X, Davidians and al-ʾIkḫwān
It’s a self imposed thought crime to embrace authority
Never to question, never to learn and think for yourself
Lay down and let monopolies & psychopathy progress
Complacent, unwilling, lazy and dumb
Why won’t you let it change?
Why don’t we help one another?
We’re all becoming one side of a dice
Immature calves being bred for the slaughter
Becoming secular and ignoring we are but one hand
Abstractions giving light to fireworks at night
Gunfire and depleted uranium polarising dawn
There are two sides to life, consciousness in 0’s and 1’s
We are binary
Here is the last of me,
Subject to none.

The Miracle Of The Sun

A duality of elan vital, two people
Spectres of emotion
Intertwined by a fuselage of bruised skin & tendon
Tissues become orbital, gushing towards grafts
Helixes of snot, piss and lymph
Boy & girl
As they embrace the animating principle and eachother, they fuse
A one piece tapestry adorned seamless with no hem, beginning or end
Always was, always is
Patiently turning to liquid as their being unzips
Lying figures of runny makeup and genetic urine
Quintessence, a texture of synaptic potential
Corpus Callosum
An entirety of self, lost in imbued disintegration
Theory of mind, looped & bound
I will water the thought
Roots envisaged in dystopian amygdala
Piercing data packets with a frost-like intensity
Forgetting our obsolescence moments ago
A neuron dipped in nylon
Theta waves and the non-euclidean crux of dissociation
Ghosts in the machine, your macro god
The sympathies of fractional distillation
Digitised/assimilated unto the nanosphere
Cold hands and brass backs galvanised in oscillated tears
Commodified, sold out and bought
Stretching, from purple, white and black
slowly losing its colour, amorphous in shape
brushed across a smudge, ambiguously chromatic
Monetised flesh god
An eternity bathed in starlight
Cutting an incision in the sky to allow entropy
Divided dimensions of energy
Fleeting and intangible
No longer a delirium of seperation
All semantics become light
As a rusted vehicle passes overhead
And all the worlds questions fade out of existence
Flutters of red tape and foregone growth of practice
Sinew flayed, integrated towards information
Our minds shared
In circuits and resistors
Photons and electrons
We radiate

Ho No Hana

There’s a whore house in my mouth
Pierced and left to deflate
Tonight I’m gone
Imperative to maintain the fixation of the bonds
Clean shaven
Looking to make the happiest of dirt
The byproduct of a contaminated mans creation
History’s gone
Slept on like a pillow in a bed of elements
The question in case is encased
Buried deep, pushing up daisies at arms length
The says have been said
This waste of time is a trend
And maybe there’s something illicit inside you
Caked in 12 year old Scotch
A debauchery in progress
I want to pull it out
And kiss it back inside

Think Tank

The car window rolls down
Scraping off the condensation that hugs softly
Onto the gossamer surface as it exudes from existence
Welcoming a life on exhibit
Letting in the worlds expectations
A caustic compound of sleet and breeze
This incomplete paper city glows green with envy
Rotting from the inside with cirrhosis and disease
Binary choices yet palindromic
Twisting towards a misnomer of free will.

A cigarette butt let loose
As it arcs towards infinity
Exhaling a sigh from inside my vice
Laced with addiction
Leaving me like flies from shit
Rain beating off our rusted exterior
Oil stripped paint oozing into the street
The suspension rocks to one side
As I unfurl my jacket
and strike a match off my forearm
I look up at the unknowing residents of this metropolis
Each light representing my social dissonance.

My hands stir nervously underneath my coat
As I begin the entrance to exit
Slowly draping my legs from comfort to the sketches of snow
Pushing myself between steel like I wasn’t in agony
An abstract conceptulisation of progress
A smooth turbulence smashes against my scalp
Like a metal rod boring into my uncertainty
I was swimming in the same pool as the scum
That populated these furrowed streets in excess
The dead had all the answers
And the living had too many questions.

Something went off in my head
My brain exploded with colours ranging from grey to piss-stained
Dripping onto my shoes with disgust
There was a hole in every pub from here to god knows
Drinking myself into oblivion and waking into this night terror
Rapid eye movements and the slurred decadence of my life on replay
Minds on fire and burrowed into sleazy exaltations
But now it’s gone
An image in the trees, now splattered across pavements
I make my home where I dream
Starving my journey of canonical basics.

It was all plastic
As I make my way up the emergency exit
Abounding up the stairs with wandering steps
Falling deeper into the past
Granite mirrors, mincing with guilt
Exposures, taped together backwards and inside out
My life is an alibi for reality
Dipped in bondage, surfing on opiates
I was sick
Too ill to cope with enlightenment
Too stupid to hate myself.

I’ll make my home where I dream
In hotel beds and in cars
On the roadside and in pity
Food crumbled on blankets
Lifestyle in overkill
In hope that travelers see
I make my home where I please.


unfastidious relief
my throat burns
like a midnight afterglow
in fleeting harmony
jaded reflux
in others memory
piecing the night together
from bed
from outside windows
under cars
and in apertures
tiptoeing on one foot
drinking my third segment
of tonight
black, snotty wine
drying in blue
destroying my thirst
and cracking my lips
i tumble onward
stewing in false pretense
unimportant conversation
pissy and shit-faced
struggling to capsize
their ego
finding oneself
in black bin bags
filled with a need
to socialise
for the sake of it
my bones are empty
the road bends
and my back is wet
first one to
go home tonight
is dead

Smiling From Inside Our Lungs

i used to get drunk
and lie
i get drunk and forget
alleviate regret
let’s park ourselves
knees in stirrups
slamming my head
through doors
every hour

A Broken Slat

the coffee pot
is bleeding
soaked up
by cotton
we’re happy

Pick Up Your Skirt

she folds
with an objective
hoping they would stop
her hips
are peepholes
climbing without reason
smokeless skies
a clear day
sheltered in our terrain
torn asunder
an abstract rejection
of chemistry

Oxton House

heaven is a hole in the wall
heaven is paint peeling off that wall
in an old folks home
reflecting voices that used to be there
waking up
and realising that no one cares
no one is gonna come
residing in our piss and shit
heaven is the loose springs in your bed
keeping you up all night
and cutting up your back
as you stare into the frosted spectre
breathing in the acrid rhythms
of the night
compressed arteries
shallow breathing
heaven is the certainty
that you are finite
heaven is what was here once
but now is gone
heaven is knowing
that your friends, family, father, mother, brother and sister
loved you…
but now they’re dead
and you only have yourself left to love
heaven is the death rattle
as you take your last breaths
heaven is the sporadic void
swallowing the darkness
that lurks in your mind
heaven is the realisation
that you are going to hell
heaven is a word…

Nitshill Pit

slithering      along paper
projecting a negative
spilling with meaning
the human condition
coiled abstracted
the beekeepers  daughter
with every other mistake
just another
scrumpled piece of paper
census taker
with excitement
cabinets, pills, waste
a false flag
our angels of materialism
cue commercials
peasants whim
never finding
the key to expression

Theme Urban, by Max davis.