Picking through the carcass of a dream
scraps of sinews hang as loose strands in a story
mis-spelled, half-formed, spoilt, spent actors in a show
that never played,
a joke that never laughed,
a word that never spoke.
Not a choke, nor a spaced-out wise-crack
but guised, selected lies.
A cushion with no filling
a life without living.
Stretched and strung upon a rack - a teased thread
hooked on conscience and jealous guilt.
Shaved, planed, tidied, boxed
packaged to fit with the rest of the world.
Lick the rules from the blackboard
Spit the social code on the streets of prejudice
and power and threat
Spin the feathered flocks into a calypso, a jackpot,
a Russian roulette.
Pounce on the present with greedy, lucky-dip hands
crush convention in a vice of life
like a tattooed goddess,
gorge from a chalice of wet pleasure.
Surf the sunspots, surging, splashing, crashing,
wading through white light
dragging the glow, the molten heat,
the burning core
into your veins