the lonely planet guide book

from behind a closed
silent sentinel door

Come sounds of
violent fracking crying

the stagnant

blood to the heart

the snorting of mucus cocaine
from the back of a hand

A head agitating
trying to wash away
stains of butchered feelings
left right left right left right
till nausea
shakes the dandruff of
reality from hair
left hanging to rot
from a crumbling

lovers tower

A body shaking in spasms
trying desperately
to fall to pieces
to escape the weight
of the vomit

flowing into the mind
as Mafia mixed concrete
to cover
a burnt desecrated corpse

A sadist tongue

self lashings
grotesquely distorting

the sounds of shame 
in the blurry light
of reflected

blame day

 fists of 100 watt
light bulbs




into  blistered

swollen eyes 

till they shatter

like blown glass balloons 

Which magnify 
pain as letters
so one can read
the only sentence
Left abandoned
on the last
dry torn crumpled
tissue page
of the lonely planet guide book

“crying is just one way 

to laugh at the world
before you see it”

© bg 2012


2 thoughts on “the lonely planet guide book

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