Jack Turner

London calling
it's smokers lungs bleating
in sharp consonants, lulling vowels
a mother's voice calling to her bosom
...

I have a secret.
I keep it locked away, clutched to my heart.
I guard it with my life, and I may give it
But it will not let me go.
...

The white, white rot of apathy
Wraps its ivy fingers round my throat
I resist against the blinding blankness
But the will to fight is leaching from my ones
...

The twilight comes slowly,
Almost unnoticeable
and weary limbs sink thankful to the chair.
Another day over, and in for the night.
...

At 5 a.m., half drunk, still sober, stumbling
to a bus the yellow walls and yellow rails and yellow dirt and yellow faces of the yellow livered people
the night fades slowly to the dawn beating to the soundtrack of mumbles, groans and Andy Williams
Her face is blank, a vacant, pale canvas
...

Oliver bathes in the champagne sun, the whole world trundles by
Oliver lies in the chardonnay sun, the rest of the world passes by
Oh what a guy what a guy
...

The smell, embedded in my flesh
Attacks my stomach
the stench of death burned into my hands
...

He breaks his back slaving over
Lager laced with
never mind
Mind nothing, mindless, mind your step
...

Grey clouds gathered on the seashore
Doom and gloom that loomed upon our heads
Markets ebbed and flowed upon the shoreline
People screamed Drowning
...

You are not real to me; I don't think
you ever were.

You weren't real in the cold October
...

The girl's a shooting
Shining star

I hold my net
...

Once, something passed between us more than space and time
And something other filled my bed than flailing arms and kicking legs
And nights pass by in silence
Television fills the void
...

I am my jailer, and my cell
I am my heaven, and my hell

I am the beauty and the beast;
...

The moon dawns upon perfection
A dream, nestled in my bedsheets,
Hair as rich as brandy
and lips
...

I worship boys
in old movies.
Cool swaggers, careful quiffs
the slouching leather jacket
...

Ta mo chroi i do lamh, mo chusla,
Ta mo chroi i do lamh.
Tug se in aice leis do chroi,
Nior briseann se, gra,
...

Upon the winds that brown leaves blow
My love is sent and it shall go;
My heart and kisses, wrapped in a silver hue
Make their way upon the breeze to you;
...

Morning dawns slowly through the smoke
its gentle nudging wakes me from my from my sleep
Bodies, mounds of sweating flesh, scattered on the floor
Their figures smell like morning breath, though they don’t know what morning’s for.
...

Our breath, tearing from our throats with mountainous effort,
Our thighs, straining with the weight
Of the sweat that mars our backs, cotton clinging
Like a drowning lover.
...

You sit
just feet away
making out to be
unassuming,
...