Only so many times I can look at the fuming hospital stack dispersing ash from all the pieces that they couldn’t fix. I’m only ignorant enough for one.
All I’m doing to us is making sure that when we’re over, that we don’t get cloned in error.
Bit through the chain link, holed-up in LA.
Caught smoking spent cigarettes, your cypher stolen from the Royal Horse Artillery.
Cloned in error: pulled up on two legs, put in the school play.
The dim nostalgia of these sad elementals, drifting through our window.
Another story, one more song; they sound the same before too long.
The ruler on the knuckles rapping on the left hand, held in the right.
From your youth, the future - a brine-washed waterslide extending down and down.
Look to the day you meet the morning incandescent with bright glory.
You dreamt the sermon kept you crushed but in the morning no memory of the path.
So stir beside the waterfall.
Thin fans of fish scales sketched in teeming spray.
To enter is to be perceived, but to question is to leave.
Smell it every day, smouldering underneath the floorboards.
Find a way to keep it vital.
While it’s over too soon, you’re still here longer than you realise.
supported by 47 fans who also own “Cloned in Error”
In 2019, I was in Salisbury and attended the Alphabet Business Convention without knowing any artist. Lost Crowns was my favourite band that played there. Pablo P.