Multiplastic

Ashes to Ashes David watches, weird-eyed sardonic, as I try to discover my truest me by painting his lyrics across my face By mime-dancing to Queen Bitch By putting on the Pierrot hat At 16 I was Lady Stardust, singing songs of darkness and disgrace At 21, Joe the Lion, nailed to a car, drunk on my own ego-prophecy Ashes to ashes, funk to funky, David I still walk with you through the set that even smells like a street Fall, wanking Time, to the floor To search for meaning in the cut-up and rearranged I lost sight of your black star for a while Until you self-resurrected by dying, another Lazarus And I looked down at my nails to see where it all began It began with a clown suit and a bulldozer February 2025

Grammys 2025 (a trio of triolets) We know you, Kanye West And your fragile, macho type Sticking out your chin and your chest We know you, Kanye West   Proud of your manipulating best Believing every word of your own hype We know you, Kanye West And your fragile, macho type We know you, Bianca Censori And the deadness behind your eyes We know you’ll be afraid of reaching forty We know you, Bianca Censori Desperate to hold on to security You’ll dive right into the gaslighting lies We know you, Bianca Censori And the deadness behind your eyes We know you, soulless Hollywood And your paparazzi prurience Holding only money as the highest good We know you, soulless Hollywood That nothing sells better than tits and blood Throwing artists on the fire at the very first chance We know you, soulless Hollywood And your paparazzi prurience   February 2025

Start Again I want to start it all again And not be reminded every day Of somebody who has died I want to wake up not remembering Who crocheted our blankets And why there’s a sheet under the sofa cushions I want to go shopping and recognise nobody And not remember whose milk I used to buy And who enjoyed cheap QC sherry I want to forget how to say ‘used to’ And ‘was’ and ‘did’, and instead remember ‘Will be’ and ‘is’ I want to discover new towns, climb hills And forget that I no longer need to remember Who might like to hear about them I want to cross bridges and turn corners That I’ve never turned before This time, unaccompanied by ghosts I want my tears to come by choice Like knick-knacks and gewgaws, locked in a box Opened only when I feel like it I want to fly into old age on wings of amnesia Caring only for what lies ahead Rusty chains broken around my skinny ankles I want to start again, and again, and again And not be reminded, every damnable day...