3 Styles Ago

Chip away
Chip away
Chip away
See the frayed remains
Of a want on a day
A scratched message displayed
To a paramour on her way
Lay layers of kind
That sink on a sunken mind as it dries
And we say our goodbyes to what was there once before
Chip away
Chip away
Chip away
And reveal the mosaic of alteration
In hands and in hearts
In fits and in starts
These falsehoods, remarks
Sit unremarked for years
And years
Like bandages
Upon bandages
The walls can not breath until
3 styles come and go and
The chiselled paper leans to ground
As browning leaves
Laying layers

Poster Child

Tack up a dream
and wreck these new walls.
An oversized Hi-Fi
makes all the noise when I sing for the moment.

Hide under covers until the lights come up
and make sure both feet are covered;
there are things out there to make your
heart stop, apparently.

A warfield beyond that tree line and fence
and if you listen closely you can hear the
metal crashing
and dents.

That place where I found that
lump of cold bone;
I knew at the time it was
a mistake to bring home.

Tack up a dream,
paste ream after ream
over cracks that will ripple
further than they might seem.


Through eyes,
Looped and wonderful,
In mud that cakes,
Sugared and full fat,
Drawn on into every mad
Thought made physical.
Pulled tight and touching;
Rubbing when the
Time calls.
Snapping when only
A breakaway will do.
Absolute and fair
In telling what is what.
These lanes that lap
In leaps are
Oft rigid but forgot.
Pulse thickens and
Thins the threads of old
That twine around a heartbeat,
And in the waking day,
Wet or dry,
The rumbling world is but another feat.