Author: Charlie Llewellin

we went to a hotelso you could punch me for an hour

made of schemeslost my dreamsif i had a soulit could never be happybe the reason someone smiled todayvanished vanquishedfind a way or fade awayeverything shot through with nothing watching the weathersee the rainclouds fill the valleysee the steel-blue skysee the

don’t cross the yellow linedon’t cross the blue linedon’t cross the red linenever leave the house it would be better if you just stayed at homedon’t worry, everything’s alright we want to explain the rules of the game but the

war is work for the women, death for the men,at least that’s how it used to be.war is death for everybody now

I’m not much interested in words they trick and tease black on a space that’s not quite white sullied by your gaze smeared in the act of their creation


e=mc2. wrong. m a confusion based on our incomprehension of e. c, based on time, another illusion. part of the complete impossibility of our comprehension of e. simplify. oh, and justice is always miscarried. battered, we throw ourselves at each

and when we go all the rest will know that the machine is the ghost

getting old

when can I succumb to the sadness and the pain in my petrifying muscles hard as rock, the breath now hardly penetrates no wisdom in age, only perhaps a tired reconciliation with the facts


byrne on bread take a piece of bread put it in the toaster watch it toast put butter on it eat one half now eat the other half bowie on bread don’t fear the wheat do not dread the biggest


they’re all hot places now where I grew up was wet and cold, now it’s a lovely day they say, nothing between us and the sun. the vultures watch the line between earth and sky for carrion while I follow