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Mr Camera

Making a subject out of you, collecting each cell;
a dangerous ankle,
completes.
The emotive fingerprint, her hair and pout,
sharp like a wine bottle in his chest,
takes him away from his wife’s memory –
and love is fashion, put in front of him,
 
a pink lipstick smeared on the wrists;
a power pop pulse.
 
Sister Morphine, falling on your body, laughing
and tearing you up –
everybody around here has something to say,
positioning themselves beautifully doped –
one foot forward, psychosis tilted on hip.
 
He takes them home,
their limbs swilling in red,
and picks out next year’s adrenaline,
depraved and cute.

◄ Cataract

The Ask of Conversation ►

Comments

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Ann Foxglove

Tue 30th Nov 2010 16:08

Wow! Love it Marianne! Esp the dangerous ankle! I'm afraid I've always had very boring ankles! Power pop pulse! Fab! xx

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