What you’re about to hear means absolutely nothing.
Take from it what you will and want because at the end of the day it amounts to absolute zero.
Lament for the jungle gym at my primary school playground.
Monkey bar boys swinging and lifting themselves upside down
Skinned knees and elbows, road rash, gravel burn.
Picking scabs and eating them.
There was once a young man named Harry.
I was in love with him. He took me to the stars and back.
He would play with my hair and whisper his postal address into my ear.
I loved his curls and locks of chestnut brown hair.
I was in love with his pubes and his body, his pelvis forming a beautiful V that sunk and flowed into his cock.
His arms were strong and taut.
I watched him climb trees and try to eat the sky.
He knew my name and I knew that he wanted to go to far away places.
He began to cut himself into tiny pieces and seal them away in envelopes, stamped & sent away to the further reaches of our earth.
When he disappeared I met a girl who was born out of river stones and loaves of bread.
Her favourite song was french and I thought she was beautiful and cool and had eyes like shattered glass.
I didn’t fall in love with her. But I think I wanted to.
She chewed up pumpkin seeds and spat them into metal buckets, she made a paste from the waste and made masks that she would paint and wear to parties.
She would never drink water.
She melted in the bathtub and disappeared swirling down the drain.
I want to talk about the boy I met on halloween night
We almost got trapped in the elevator together
He was dressed as someone from Reservoir Dogs and I was dressed as a Frenchman
I had a baguette and a paintbrush, he had a suit with a red stain on it.
I think it may have been wine.
I almost fell in love with this boy I met on halloween.
He took me to a cafe and gave me coffee and attention and I liked that about him.
I gave him my paintbrush, which he seemed apprehensive about.
He had dark black hair. He called himself an artist.
He showed me his most recent painting, it was of a house on fire.
It made me feel lonely and lost and hurt and like crying.
I said “ I liked it “
He said he liked it too.
I thought that was narcissistic and didn’t love him anymore.
But the boy I met on Halloween had a friend who could write and had sad eyes.
She was someone I wished I could fall in love with.
She smelt of dead ants and Sylvia Plath.
But that’s a story for another time.
This one is for now and you.
I hated the smell of my mothers perfume, i think it was Beyonce heat.
She would ask me if i could cut wood for the fire and I would say no because I was scared of the spiders and that they would know it was me that disturbed their home and they would come into my room in the middle of the night and crawl into my mouth and live inside my stomach and have little spider babies which would have more and there would be generations of this spider family living in the pit of my stomach.
I would cry whenever my cat killed a bird.
But i remember jumping on the trampoline in our front yard and climbing the tree that hung over the footpath and watch old men and women walk home in the twilight sun.
Frank expressions of interest within a framework
Naked people swimming in oceans
I built a crater in the backyard for me and my teddy bears to sleep in when we wanted to run away
It was underneath the lemon tree, right of the gooseberry bush and left of the cabbage patch where leeks grew too tall and zucchini turned into marrows
Behind the house is a concrete slab with all of our hand-prints.
My own little hollywood star on the walk of fame.
Hearing sordid stories that make me sick
I throw up all other myself and I hate it
Drowning in my own bile
I am a supernova
I am exploding into thousands of pieces
I know that I have nowhere to run except into the stars
I am lonely up there
My friends keep me afloat by singing into my ear, they tell me of the times that they loved and fires become young again
What are you doing to me what do you see?
Let me tell you about the time that I sent a love letter to a stranger
I sealed dried flowers and dead bugs between the pages of my words and told them how much they meant to me
It seemed like a good idea at the time
It seemed like something someone would want
I am grateful for the sun
I am grateful for the box of beers I bought
I am grateful for all this world has to offer
I am grateful for the family I found
I am grateful for the great beyond that sits just over the horizon
I am grateful for art
For smelly farts
For silliness and fun
For joy and love
They fill me up to the brim and I am happy
I am happy
I am happy