space storms and microwave ovens



lonesome and awake

watching the lighthouse swing

beams scanning cowards

through bedroom windows


foreboding dawn of a red planet

universe of hopeless

escapades to the electric sun

and hollow moon

counting on heavens

to shine down from barren space


what falls beyond the horizon is a distraction


untold stories from the dead

replay eternal tragedies

time bent over the afterlife





boys grow up too fast to be called men

no kisses for mum

broken rib for dad

parents too stubborn to let go


too gutless to break free 


fear of mortality


one day you won't be there to protect them

this vulnerability

cuts deep into the fourth dimension


blame mother

the tighter her grip

the more he resists her umbilical crusade


tripwires of calamity

trigger thistledown regrets


personal hell is a microwave oven

cooking you from the inside

boiling molecules of so called happiness


oblivious to the pain


plates shatter

weight slams into the ground


there is no detour round human implosion

you cave in

every time you drive past the cross

where your son died alone

cradled in iron dust beside a burning wreck





after the storm


the draconian river flows swiftly

past the breakwall

across the bar

into the benevolent sea


creeks and rivers cleanse the hinterland

broken trees carved by stone and sand

float down like carcasses in floodwater


washed up


the estuarine journey ends

in twisted wood piles along the dune line

awaiting burial

sandblasted by the wind

bound by tender roots of overgrowth


i comb the beach for treasure

and wonder what to make from this

fragile cycle of life and decay


after the storm


big bad barry hangs from the wall

driftwood shaped by ancient instinct

and sea monster myths lurking within





what do you see

in dreams

inner cubes

in your succubus

of cigarettes and blowjobs


what do you see in a fat man

with dead blue feet

getting heart massaged in the street


life steps over his half naked body

before paramedics slowly roll away

emergency waste

scatters in the wake






in the self


i smell like tadpoles

ciphered symbols

spawn of mercurial light


calluses tear from my grip


the mass of my shadows


oblivious to the pain


plates shatter

weight slams into the ground



Alexander Case

My apologies for the length... four [unfinished] poems blended into one.

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