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another draft from the new manuscript

Prodigal Drift

art reshuffles
out of date subjectivity
hello mother

an ode to milk
ovelteen on a wet Tuesday
post prandial nose-dive
in the minced stew

2nd train to London £26
£240 for box room
Seven Sisters not ideal

pajamahoods:
neighbor bangs
broom against floor
for loud bed-fucks

lets tell it and get screwed in the words squirts

yr chicken is ready in the clashing neons of milky South Ealing

the frozen ones and the bater’s in the crème bit
an aqua splash in yr yogurt

and the babies really sitting forward with their whole mouths
on the tit trumpets

breaded the sunshine
really posh early-up
mercurial visual ears

you gotta understand the lapid maze
you can hear it on the radio
pick it up operatically
hot/cold with critical speculation
throw back the sacred vows of misery
word stage of old holy
place has its hands on the lost

to take a different direction
to the prim residuals
of Victorian England

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