Under The Clock*
Peeping and peering is the eyehole in a sky flat grey
Unblinking orb with all behind in blue and black
in black and blue and beaten,
stinks of bile and bars and gun metal blue.
Clang bang rattle down the tunnel vision hall ribbed
wrapped white knuckle rows clutching at the
guts of the place
wrenching apart the inside out
spilling it all on an unlikely altar bare of idols.
Time to think and bounce thoughts, ping, off
riccocheting madly, charging the stale air but no fear,
it's washed away in the floor piss.
Kill time in waiting,
bad gutters admonishing my intemperance
'you got a nose
for trouble, have a look at yourself,