How often life revolves into spinning a bottle?

How often life revolves into spinning a bottle?


Until empty;


In forgotten alleyway

Truth hold communication


Within commune a la conspirator

Snifter held to nose



We collude a separate rush;

Train heave on to Horsforth; foot carries to Holbeck



Over bold horizon,

Through a Bedouin drape, pours liquid morn;

Nagging reminders arose


Scorn drag on smoke ladened

Snoozing head;

Damp cheek on pillow case

On fingers numb days count back, waiting

For happy call of phoned news


Every day is forever

Crossed out, scribbled,

Dashed against razor rocks,


On mornings condense the patrons

Solace found in drinking hole

And coffee prior to none at noon


From a lightly swaying cradle

To the yawning grave,

We hang around; queued

Until a’snoring

Time appears again


A heart says flee and never return.

Take all you can, pull up root, jump train

Plane away

Plane the grain smooth

Step onto a horizon clean

Green plain

Gray life no longer dangling feet first

Looking for the moment Gravity wills

You down.



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