Maggots

Please find enclosed what you dont want. No one is my friend. Not even the lonely goatherd or the Twisting Vocalist. What can I produce? A wheeze, a grunt, a groan, a gesture to feed the 5 thousand with red pudding suppers bought with free coupons. Keep your eyes peeled. A maelstrom is coming which will engulf us all. It'll be lead by the ghosts of Bernie and Schnorbitz. I hold on to your scent. I breathe into a coffee cup-produced by exploited labour. A warning fired across my bows in '89. I'll never be perceived to be on the right side. I don't have it-neither the corduroy nor the confidence. You tie a scarf round a scratching post. It's crumpled boho-cutprice easy. I love you for it. You don't know about any of these things. Untidy, flimsy, imperfect. It's just like what was said-Nothing Can Bring Me Down.