Electric Children Falling

Here is the soil I am eating,
Here is the new endless dirt,
The broken shed,
The sanctuary,
The last pulse of a dead fish,
The sounds
Of electric children falling,
Playing in a ditch
And calling for another,
Brothers in the gutter,
A new dawn for the dying.

The spectrum is a war grave,
The stench is dead and fake,
On top of all the bodies
A leader sits and waits,
A chalk-board with its diagram,
A caution in the foot notes,
It’s easy when you’re spent
And no one really cares,
Caterpillars look like the future,
People stop giving advice
And everything tastes like chicken.

One night under the carpet,
Another lying on stairs,
Idiots drift like fog
And thoughts appear like ghosts.
In a dark, dark corner
Of a rotten, gothic villa,
There are books worth reading,
Crosswords worth filling,
Words are nothing but games,
Trapped mice sit like dice,
I am wise to these moments.

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3 Responses to “Electric Children Falling”

  1. piratebynight Says:

    good stuff.

  2. dunstancarter Says:

    Cheers!

  3. The dark context is lightened by witty lines such as ‘everything tastes like chicken’ & ‘trapped mice sit like dice’.

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