Buckaroo!

You are a mule,
a quiet creature,
an honest, hard worker,
a soft touch.
People gather around you,
it’s all fun and games at first,
the anticipation.
Slowly one by one
they start hanging their junk on you,
piling it up on your back
and hanging around your neck.
You buckle slightly,
you stay strong,
they proceed cautiously.
Whether it’s an accidental knock
or simply not being able to cope any more,
you violently throw your limbs in the air,
trying to throw all the pressure off you.
It’s a sudden gesture
that takes them by surprise
and it doesn’t really looking like anything
other than crazy.

It…

It’s there! On the horizon!
Can’t you see it’s silhouette?
It’s drawing closer, closer,
creeping in, slithering.
All teeth and claws
and heavy black pelt,
eyes filled with hate.
Too late now… it’s got me.
Blood trickles down,
it’s claws are digging into my back,
clinging on.
It’s singing,
howling noises and random words.
It’s swaying
bearing it’s weight down.
Horrible songs,
ghoulish songs,
cold and malicious.
It’s cutting open the skin
at the base of my neck
forcing it’s way inside me.
Can’t you see it?
It’s burrowing deeper,
biting my insides,
it’s teeth like needles
scratching at the back of my skull,
feeding.
It’s fur is matted with my blood.
it’s nesting inside me again
and it’s breeding.

too much

too many people
too many voices
drowning again
drowning forever
so much noise
too much noise
not enough quiet
never enough quiet
so many faces
so many ghosts
not my space
never my space
really need quiet
can’t find quiet
so much work
too much work
so much cost
never enough money
loads of art
never enough time
not enough quiet
never enough quiet
so much conversation
so much listening
too much talking
never enough talking
so much love
too much love
too much simplicity
never any clarity
ever so complicated
far too complicated
not enough quiet
never enough quiet

Escapism On Random

Dancing out the front door,
a terrible Fred Astaire
to a pounding techno beat.

Strutting down the street,
an amateur John Travolta
to pulsating rock ‘n’ roll.

The queen of the night life
and king of the club kids
to skeletal electroclash.

A conga line instigator
at the shop check out
to an old novelty song.

A tired intrepid explorer,
scaling flights of stairs
to an inspirational ballad.

Just another average Joe,
removing my headphones
and entering the office.