wizz

the electric fence
splits my skull
tosses my stone
a inch of dark
a dash of salt
to go

the pincers clench
pulverise the wound
its all so much to go
i hope it's grown soon

i hope my wrists are cut
to telephone wires
i smash the day
no sting of time
within dull hours

no longer haze
to glaze my sleepy eye
rethink
rewire
try to wonder why

try to look at them
\as two between
them,crucified
up up to heaven
feel them bleed

50 years
between them
spent with a wound
always splitting from the seams
the gashing womb
take seventy pills
to smash the dream
and death will see you soon

a half a mile
under this wretched peasant moon
the electric fence to go
im going under robin humming
the whizz, a gentle strumming

no more to know
no more dandelion fluff
to blow