ABREWCADABREW

I am a ghost.

Haunted by and keep haunting myself.
I am feared and afraid;
lonely in hiding…

…trying to make myself go and stay away.

In silence
invisible
daylight shade
nightmare custody
I am here,
and then nowhere at all at once.

Like that, no more.

No more,
ever still.

Toss a Frisbee satellite
and I become that blip
on the screen
on the scene
on the bend
it drops my stomach in the end.

They’re tracking me.

Laughing at the mechanism
people-dodging fools
in the way
in the fray
in the dark
the homeless freezing in the park.

They’re watching me.

Sucking on a melancholy lollipop,
I am staring at a lorry where it doesn’t belong.
Like the policeman pulling out his ticket book,
I write it all down
I write it all wrong.

The abandoned bicycle,
its basket now a rubbish bin
the art school bills paint and pasted inside tunnel walls
the looks-like-you-know mannequin
the conspiracies revealed in scrawls
the crows are getting bigger, too
someday not afraid of you.

They’re taunting me.

…and when the ink dries,
I tear everything up
shred the facts
burn the lies
swallow ash
spit disguise
sift through sin
formaldehyde and specimen
anthropophobia
I’m in.

So ticker tape my mouth shut
and cauterize my eyes,
savage insular
hollow and peculiar
phonophobia.

The trick is to keep breathing
without choking
but I’m suffocating in an ever growing utility fog
anemone metal inside Hades’ dog.

They’re killing me.