The Problem with Winning

The problem with winning is there's no longer any torrent to fight against.

Trying. Failing.

I tried washing my hands today. They felt like they were covered in face grease. Saliva. The thick sweat you get under an armpit or deep between butt cheeks. Warm. Deep stickiness. Melty, napalm-marshmellowy levels of magnetic adhesiveness. I tried again. Still failing. Still failing while trying.

The longer you live, the more people you know die

Wake up all smothered by sweat cause you live in a heat sink
Hair is dead as soon as it leaves my scalp
Cast tongue tunes over room warm whiskey in pencil cup
Heads throbbin', processes slow, channeling the missing link
Straingten up get, sit up, grab the cup, and have another sup
French fries on the floor, more clothes scattered than carefully folded
If mess is the devil, I'm the father of the anti-christ
damp on the edges, corners are col-o-nies all molded
I'm far from purebred, my birth was faked, my genus feist
Barking is my past time, anger is my Christmas
This was not the first bit, not the encore, boredom for the sake of it,
She takes a drag, smokes inside,
I don't, heads and windows I cant, yelling without noise,
The red wine she wants I'll get before the evening.

New country sad sacks, get your scrotum pinned back you ugly Russian,
Thats about the thick of it, all insults and bravado, empty threats,
There's a poltergeist of a thug, he's broken now, thank god,
The wife took the kids and ruined him, I'm glad.
Trouble is where trouble stays, has nothing to do with the neighbourhood,
Why anyone goes back to monogamy after threesomes is beyond me.
Rusty, rusty, rusty, we're always stiff and rusty,
Well I'm stiff, she's rusty, but we ignore the clarity because its worse than fiction.
Sometimes there's a silent, silent pain, silent pause, silent silence,
Actually there's lots of silents, so I guess it's more like all-the-time.

Not a metaphor

The day is bright but dark clouds brew above us. Its not a metaphor, these are the actual environmental conditions at the moment. I'm sitting and watching the people of Footscray walk about to and from the market, the occasional pairing of friends finding each other out and about on the street. They don't notice the clouds forming above. Not that they need to, but I wonder if later when it begins to rain, how many of them will be caught out and find themselves without an umbrella.

Unsanitary Lake

I fear the world is becoming more unsanitary. Yes. Unsanitary. Yes, I fear it just might be, and I don't say that carelessly. For example, just this very morn I was out for a stroll around the lake, and as the sun was rising and bathing the waking world in orange light, I saw a man masturbating in the brush by the waters edge. I assume he reached completion because he let out a long heavy sigh and shuddered, and then, without washing his hands or using any kind of sanitizer, took a baguette from his tote and began to eat it! I was positively horrified!

Incorporeal Predator

"Thoughts became the new battleground. To control the width and breadth of thoughts was the new military and political agenda. Preferences and likes became monopolised. Certain states jailed the victims and set the perpetrators free. Women were crushed under the heel of male oppression for years. Then Feminism. Then Feminism was quietly renovated into a harmless hobby-project to keep masses of women busy; their fight for equality continued but under the contained and controlled guidelines of revolution hampered by bureaucracy and societal restraints. Moving forward through thick mud. Conceptual structures preyed on lone radical ideas."