we will never swallow london whole

dear ian kevin,
the lights on the stages
that i stood on
but never really graced
never commanded
that my arms flail about
but the sorrow in my own heart
certainly
made me
flop

i've found my own ways to convulse

be it to the maddened rhythm
hook
line
and
sink
her
it tore us to pieces
didn't it?

dreary and dire
and poetic
are the mishaps
and the shapes that are born of buzz saw strobes
danced and outmaneuvered
mysteried
and admired
we'll never swallow london whole

it tore us to shreds
didn't it?

warsaw colour wheel
post-rock
rolandic trauma
and the shapes that are born of buzz saw strobes

we'll never walk on that water now
it tore us a new one
didn't it?

i've found my own charming ligatures

and so
another new man fades