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New poem from yesterday (rough draft)

Recycled from Today

identity is a serious personal issue
self-imposed deadlines
it shuts on its own darling
i’m sure you’re gonna be somebody, soon
do you understand what else there is?
stop anti-aging, stop messing with yr widgets, o2 unlimited
i’m now in touch with Jim Goar
I don’t know what this nation needs
bungee jumping with five quid
take shower early when not teaching
my feet are too wide for all the hip shoes
auspicious wanderings could be fruitful
beer gut of another tomorrow
i can’t stand the ladders
you would be dead now right
chewing on the old days whilst in the shower
bus 29 to Camden Town has a high percentage of pick pockets
all my friends from the Great Empire have abandoned their stations
have put their slinkies in the mud
every tomorrow is recycled from today and I’ve got a green wrath
it’s growing in the dapple-hued countryside of Milton Keynes
for magnesium light he lifted his pillow
gold teeth in the mythical moist night of jollies
co-mingle with minions and unpeeled onions
all that vigor squeezed into a single sneeze
you are a supposed person rushing late into marginilization
less brutal truths are clipped from the toenail
so we are going then, you and I, to rub
our foggy bottoms on the all foggy windowpanes of West London
you don’t have children do you?
I’m down with the tags
what is the origin of the underlogged?
a freed man drips genital fruit

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