Jam Baxter
Sherriff
Quiet at the back. When you flick that switch your skies will collapse. Not mine cuz
Seems you can’t shrug off the fog like us. Keep your insides well stocked like us
I’ve seen where lines on rocks wind up. Wet footprints in the hot white dust
They swan dived off my mind by the hundred. Memory dissolved in my god like guts

I hang with the drinkers, vandals and infants. Ice cold ghouls, with the gangrenous fingers
Twisting detachable limbs, on the floor, Brain soon to be sold as a hand full of giblets
Ears still ring from the screams of a wildly theatrical mistress
So tonight’s front page reads full scale melt down captured in pictures

That was last year’s par, this week’s winner, next year’s fossil
I sat and wondered, who rented the space in your skull as a rundown high street brothel?
Mind boggles. Dregs of the eighteenth bottle. The last drip fizzed on my tongue
I slunk out, fried the earth in hot fat, and rolled back for a nuclear winter at one

Squint at the sun. Snake tail held in my finger and thumb. Drooling at noon
The thick soggy air brought saw tooth bugs, that would slurp at his brain like gruel with a spoon
Drink our riders. Rolled up fivers. Sit inside, sweat wrapped, back and suck nitrous
You will never see a statue in our likeness, carved on a cliff face basking in silence

Yeah..yeah..

Death had the weirdest face id seen in a while
Like he ain’t had a dream in a while
Greeting his guests with a scream and a smile
Flea bitten child spews litres of bile
I walked in… Cool water feature
Cool water feature… Ain’t staying here
Ain’t walking either
Little more sleep. Little more tequila