when art dictates yr sleep
and yr band makes agents weep
when money's too fast and cheap
and love goes far too deep

when the words talk with yr mouth
and meanings dance with doubt
when a thought upsets yr liver
& a dream makes a poached egg shiver

when art turns round and round
and the day spins upside down
from a sunset breakfast flows
a secret orchestra of shows

wherein percussionists surrender
to the plunder of Nintendo
and the hegemony of gender
melts its edge in a rainbow blender

so a slave my art has made me
i work yet no one pays me
where art is a three letter word
and god is a palindrome bird

my friends they weep in cupboards
for the friends and lost beloveds
that once were seen a normal
yet now have gone nocturnal

get moonburned on the beaches
and consort with ethereal creatures
write poems that speak to no one
but the cryptic cool conundrum

thus clothed in intelligent fonts
i punctuate my response
with talk of a lost dimension
which nobody cares to mention

you may look the other way
as i sleep beyond midday
so dawn can be my sunset
in an isolate island mind set

but when language is your ocean
and the music licks yr feet
poetry is for no one
but you who skip the beat

so go ye succubi slam sluts
applause is a poisonous cake
sing  poetry by its own sweet law
make art for its own sweet sake