Poem -

old shops songs and planet crap

Broke with the broken

Brought me a little piece
inside the forgotten mind
singer on a street counting burnt mornings
hides from early winter sleep
her head hangs slow
on her family crest -cut into the young chest

Card blows unwritten on a vast escape
never to be read
never to be more than a zombie fed

She crawls into the cheapest bottle
unbroken -clear profound
deaths teardrops keep her afloat
while sinking feet drop all around

he scuffles into a corner forgiven
scented urine a midnight present
cloudless curtains were drawn by dawn
closed into every open shrine

Now as sleep weeps
and gives the magic skin
pavements ghostly spirited

Neil Young singing again
from the retro shop
which rests open
and here I am looking at my life
unliked and skinless in flesh
accidentally undressed
and paradise is the tune hummed

drenched by the sane
I've found the travelling grave
just need the step
and follow