thejunkyardprocession 02 | Page 11

You are here to go (the Rabbit Revolution) We are frozen not good enough resignation accepted deals with devils done suffering death in life ransoming every other family for our own, drinking love to sleep feasting on sex to wake sat at the back of the cave guarding our precious bones preferring the pitch of darkness to the fall of shadows on the wall cast up by the fire raging inside us, a nest of rabbits caught in the middle of the road, a mesmerized society eyes wide as spinning dinner plates waiting for dictatorship to swerve away, but the driver has a death grip on the wheel his bloody foot is nailed fast to the accelerator he wants to feel the skin and guts in his tread wants to wear you and feast on his road kill, turn way from the light and choose your life only action only your thump will save you now to save your own skin know your own mind and gather the colony, leave the nest and go! You are here, to go! So go, go, go, before you are eaten up by the road. Jgh 4/8 (from “8 Drafts of a Multi-Dimensional Poem) A crash mat for a safe landing – expecting fractures – Playing eight ball in the afternoon – carpet sticky with neglect I line up the white and see over the table where a woman is watching us play – We all slip up – say the wrong thing at the wrong time to the wrong girl – Life is full of misgivings – no wonder the playboy becomes the priest – I have no such story – cynical about this world and powerless – What have I done wrong and why do I keep doing it? The faded movie posters give the memory a point in time – What shifts is our perception – the movie was panned when it was released – The transitional arrangements for our departure are in place Life is split between our nomad spirit and marking out a territory – I lit up the sky around you but you weren’t in the mood for fireworks – Or rather: other forces are at play – there’s been a shift – Pluto is no longer classed as a planet – so our uncertainty grows – They say he was last seen rooting through dustbins in search of polystyrene – Was it only I who knew your intention? That and the grants panel – Seems there is method in our madnesses – I approved of the colour scheme – The shortlist requires no introduction – past lives are uncontrollable