Farseer

I’m a farseer, see myself in a four seater farting into open air 

Music loud as Wacken Open Air, windows waxy blunt taxi over to the left

Everyone asking for a lift, everyone asking for a hit

Some of them asking with their lips

Some of them asking with their hips

Don’t look right at it, man’s problems like an eclipse

Even though I’m equipped with special glasses, I need pleasant grasses

To rosequartz the lens of my glasses

These eyes which make happenstance

Yet cannot make happiness in the man

Whose glance is that very vantage

When I blink, the world vanishes

One moment it’s there, magnificent, the next second Atlantis

Little blunt but assertiveness is never bad, I hit send on my demands

They’ll get served in ten seconds, eight if they preheated the jet engine

I’m laughing constantly, like I was with Gary Larson

Being given a tour of his favourite panels from the Far Side Gallery

Laughing at larcenies I committed in my villain era, arson on my blunt end.


Discharging my duties, and my firearms into the hillock

Where you peat bog pillocks are chilling

Bullets pinging against my pillbox

Man is swinging I’m like we’ll box

I barge in, marginalized, my arms don’t get tired

Your eyes get dried by the shine

Neighbours dial nine nine nine

Boys in blue at last arrive

I’m far gone by the time

Give it the boot, they must have driven hard to get here so quickly

I’m sending out ripples, moving briskly through the water inky

No time for thinking, led by instinct I have directionally a faint inkling

Almost sinking in the sucking bog sedge

I’m taking corners like a fucking bob sled

Mind full of plans like Builder Bob’s head

I’m bobbing along, the Bobbies are thrown

I leave no trail, this is a thrill for real

I have beneath my fit a mithril kit

Split a bullet down the middle

Give me time to sit you, settle

I’m in the shallows like a hippo going to wallow, swallowing lungfuls of pond

Coming up, curse the loud palm whips hissing underfoot, into the brush

Rushing but I’m not in a rush.


The stronger the fire the shorter it burns

My driver has a short back and sides, sideburns and a barbed wire band tattooed on his bicep

He tries to tell me about his band so I hand him a chat ban

Fingertip going pale pressing the mute button so hard

I generalize, I have a general’s eyes that’s my Mars in Gemini

Same as that which made Alexander ride and ride and ride, unto dying

Seats are cream leather, take it any colour except green

I’m behind like a trailer, like a comet’s tail vomiting forth earthly change

End up making passers by scream queens, overdone James Dean

Not my equal but eager for good’s graces

She looks like Grace Jones, bone structure

Dyed hair, crimped and colour of butter

Cosmic horrors on my brain

Asking Have you read Sutter Kane?

Feet scarred from walking the razor’s edge

Roof peeled back like deception unmasked

Arms aloft gassed, passing out the boy racers

Taking corners like a go kart, wearing paint then I go hard

She must be inflating balloons she blow hard, i’m in the throat hard

This is the hard part when you want an oath

Sewn my oats so gotta go

At the free gaff in the kitchen, scab cans my pot piss in

Barnacled shoe my lobster pot brought this in

Kissing my fists, spinning my rings, thinking about Zacariah Sitchin

Nine saved with a timely stitch

Night’s saved with a thirsty bitch

Vapelight like a lightsabre, cutlass through the sable

Green apple, my friend his cap a table wraps up a spliff

He finagles something resembling one, if it can be lit we’re smoke it

Pop the hood like a zit and sit on it, the horizon is pure onyx

On it since six yesterday, like up a Jacob’s Ladder escalading

I’m on hell’s southbound escalator, pinch myself back to the Escalade

Escapades at hand, I’m an escape artist with grenades strapped to me with elastic bands

Swap my hands for talons, hug the wall for balance, cop a fourth for ballast

I’m in the eagle’s nest, the highest tower, looking out landscape JG Ballard

Whole empire and no worthy sons, pickle me in Nelson’s rum

Leave someone else to run it, I take a raspberry from the punnet

Pink, bulging, fulsome, bitten tongue bitter upon it, eponymous anonymous

I have more chainsaws to gutsfuck than Euronymous

I was borne to Euronyme when the settling spheres still bubbled hot

I was visited in my cot by Thoth, who bid me write wrathful words

Ringing in sick then spending the day running up the amounts

Feeling tired and tight in my chest, I’m getting sent signs but

Figuring them out’s like Only Connect

Have to stay up late night for the Taghairm.

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