Even the Snail Leaves a Stardust Trail

On waking dust falls from my scalp
no spare change, rewire my empty life
for the head over heels day to day grind
disturbance in the suburbs, curb side reasoning
allergy season and motivation for treason.

Compassion and compression, memory
without impression, who ignites
those neon neural sparks
those splashes of unnatural light?

Promises of water are broken
and the sun wanders
aimless as the blowfly
too listless to write
and too relentless to die.

Talking numbers, binary palm readings
can’t stimulate response, demand or supply,
cash strapped and thoroughly lashed
to my credit card, I digitally resign,
delete and alt-control my mind.

I had dreams I had meanings I had a reason for all this!
I had drugs I had drinks I had nothing in the bitter end
all the stars in heaven to talk to, and I had no words
to shout through the night and into your head,
no more ink in my backwards arteries
and thoughts like a torn spider’s web.

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