do the bus stop

an onion stink was in the towels

(thin and lurid-yellow things)

I only wiped my back-there was not much back to wipe.

I myself am thin and lurid-yellow now.

The bus shunts forward and in my eyes

an unwelcome heat is rising

i make- a kind of sound.-

and the shimmer brims and spills.

onion tears I say to mel,

and make another sound

not quite a cry

for the first time tasting this latest sour flavour

a painted cake

a handbag pizza.

Suddenly, my skin feels thicker

and there is some thing fastening to me

hard, fastening hard to me

i cannot tell just what just now.

My eyes are full and the stench of onions is obscuring all smells

making our dreams come true

the borg link seventh circle of blogging hell begins.

hush little baby

Once there was a sea inside
where a babyswam unfinished
fingers fluttering hard
against the skin within there
where no one else could get through
those hot days long
he went on swivelling
'round my womb blind
with bellyblood, silly baby
on my inside, stirring
nothing inside of I
had been another someone once
the fattening happened
quick like that things changed at school-
girl no longer, now a mother
-youngster, with a baby-
heavy belly bloating my youth
isn't always pretty
hard work, all that lumbering, clumsy
bones bearing the alien weight baldly
everyone sideways eyeing you
were the worst: you're too young
was i informed, you can't love now
keep being obedient
as ever, I bent against the blob hissing
"dumb kid" as she went, mum left
off loving, and dad did too
young to understand feelings
all crammed together
in failure. we didn't love well
'till then she'd not asked much
of her talk did come kind
of tough race she'd run though
I'd let her down once already
i was ending any small lovings well trying
my best not to let them down

looking glass

By the way,
remember that friend I had?
The friend who died?
I realised today, she didn't die;
she was only hiding!
I heard her giggling behind me.
Der, you idiot! Of course I looked!
But she was too quick for me.
And too clever too!
She disguised herself as a tangerine candle!
I didn't know she could do that.
Did you? 'Cos you could have told me.
It's okay, though.
I blew it out the second I realised.
She was cool with it. It's a lame game anyway.
And it's slack too, hey.
Anyhow guys, don't die okay?
It's getting tiring,
all this checking behind everything

many a splendoured thing

This is called SOMETHING FUCKING AWFUL
It's a pretty shitty piece, about something fucking awful.
So, note: today there will be no lyrical descriptions.
Nothing about the way the grey light spread out cold.
I wasn't really considering that. Not on a windy Sunday.
Instead (when it happened), my thinking bristled with cliches
Like, I can't believe this, this is fucked, how disgusting,
this is completely ridiculous, I'm speechless.
I didn't know then, the way these things wait
sly behind dark-glassed windows, wearing malicious grins,
ready to bad-news-blindside you on ordinary afternoons

Someone died that day, and I know you'll disagree.
"She's still alive." She's not though, not to me.
That's the horor of her death. It is deeper than dying
Despite being dead, she'll keep walking and talking
Text you sometimes. Ask you to have brunch on King St,
thinking you've forgiven, or been fooled back into believing,
But here is what I know: Love is canny. Love is sly.
And love hates you. Love just means getting fucked.
Over and over and over again, and then it's you,
deciding to go back for one last fucking. Not the good kind.

You're gonna burn your tongue on someone. It'll scar.
Take away the shiny stuff, the bits that believe in love
It will be ending after ending, and a failing,
and a always wondering if anything's coming after.
Don't despair though. There's something to be had out of it:
You will understand the lie of love at last.
This is what the lie is, so listen:
People are not who they say they are.
And they are not who you think they are.
They are not who they think they are, either.
They never are. They never are.

massive attack

for natty matty and rico, who like it however I bring it

i saw one of your hands carrying fire
i saw one of your hands bringing water
i saw one of your hands bearing soil
by my own hand i brought forth air

one of your four hands fanned the racing flame
ahead of this flame the second hand moved the earth
the blaze failed under the third hand, the hand bringing water
by my own hand i brought forward winds and gathered you

the four elements of the globe converged. light crossed the earth.
we were more than the sum of our parts
and by our four hands now we are united:
bound by the hand of clay, refreshed by water,
made light by air, the flame laying bare a new and brilliant city,
ready at last for our new and brilliant living

with a little help from my friends

by norah kay with lu


it is these things
it is only senseless positions
it is what i've got that you don't;
it is pretending. it is what i've got that you want
it is prostitution. it is all yours.
it's an innocent carcass. it's a carpet. it's a car.
it's someone who can't hold it together.
it's someone who couldn't care less.
it is younger than you. it is removal.
it is without any question marks
it is touching your back. it is shut up.
it only answering
it is very unpleasant. it is never no.
it is never please don't do that.
it is keeping it going. it is nil by mouth. it is complicated circling.
it is void of my body. it is not what you've heard.
it is unbuttoningit is done by this hand.
it is done in my name.