i am depressed again
but it is a wild rash thing
that rips skin from fingers
scratches bars down cheeks
serves thighs cut hassleback
smashes mirrors and windows
and sees no future
rattling lump-bonily
flat footed on wet streets
beneath old crows
knocking chords in rain
to drug addicted musicians
impersonating elvis
bent backed over tuneless instruments
the man in the section van
peering dark eyed through tints
flanks shambled by plainclothes
rumble-bellied before lunch break
screaming cart-off
pre chicken and leek
in the driver's seat
i hear gordon went into private detection
the obnoxious fuck
