Drooping, like a nuclearised candle,
Eyes, eyelids, limbs, legs, dregs into toes,
Then mush of mice and man
Which, against the Sun roars.
Trunk & suppository, knitted into their banana-flop,
Brain ticking ticking ticking,
Its little magnets winding down the day of the binary ever-time.
They’ll burn off before that, in the frenzy,
The heat, the persistence of camembert.
All on the needle of the atomic era, the candle
Heroine and Mike in the banana as the candle burns within them.
Mike’s arch in agony and mine as the tusks are thrown
And throw us from beneath our Tartarus.
Absinthe, interested, flows down our throats as we imagine together.
And all the cheeses and eyelids and fruits a funeral pyre,
On the curve of the curtain, and the trunk and the coffee lid,
And the pencil-cases’ zipper
And the street-corner in Redfern that wears its gum-stains with pride,
And the lecturer’s raven hair
And the camellias littering, in mandalas of doom
the September pathways.
From all my eyes that droop, into the world
Radioactive and tainted with burns.