Pallid Piano

Her mind kept time like a metronome.
Regulating the timid tempo of life, cautiously
She perched on sleek and silent keys
Fingers, fixated and frail,
Primed to set her lily white world ablaze.

Her chestnut hair whispered
At the nape of her neck.
Exposed by the deep simplistic V of a snowy silk dress,
Her spine, properly postured and pained,
Protruded from her portrait.

I was enslaved by the painting.
Compelled to follow its frame
Flecked in gold when struck by light,
I could not see her face, still cannot see her face.
I assumed hers is that of my mother’s.

My mischievous mind could not keep time.
Disarranging the timid tempo of life, ungracefully
I perched on sleek and silent keys
Fingers, scattered and strong,
Primed to set my lily white world ablaze,
And under my mother’s gaze I was told to begin.

e l e c t r i c f e e l

socialised health care
a ban on guns
meditation in the morning
masturbation at night.
coffee with a ciggarette
new records once a week.
communication
eternal salvation
chocolate to cure my fucking menstruation
food for the hungry
shelter for the poor
crushing cancer
a goddam answer.
grass to hide in
peace in the east
higher education
falling leaves.
time travel
a little confidence please
shows and bros
driving courtesy.
patience
therapy
maps and shoes.
an ocassional joint
nights filled with booze.
conventional morality to disappear
living anywhere but 'there' or 'here'
light noise dark slience lights silence dark noise.
its what i need to survive.