(revised) automatic
the sun breathes and the wind turns into static voices
as I listen to crickets tick a thousand whispers unspoken
I miss the mystery of catching a breath from the mountains
somewhere days cry on a violin and flowers burn
brazen screams squirt seeping stains through my silence
a chasm coloured with bruises clouds the coloured ripples after today's life
ignorance wastes before the beautiful rain and fresh grass blades smile
as the sky's eyes drip dreams filled high on wasted time
silence slowly beats into sound and shakes the flag of burning time
turn the page to a numbered sign and cut the wasting ground
reports of lunar friends alone in visions of the universe thinking astray
the taste of bloodless feelings choose routes of that stranger empathy
echoes lift tempos as sleep returns to the secrets drawn in the stars
the night's side leaves no room to wallow with the devil's fear
sleep with the lost of the found before I remember the road to travel back
look to your stronger pain and spell out the kill in tomorrow
forgive me as I speak words of foiled bubbles
carry the world's gun if you want to hide celluloid drugs in the eyes of people
stand round the corner and lift the head in heaven's face
laugh the slipping body away from fear because together in dice we die
in a storm time slips into one and hide's life behind closed eyes
the heart's piano bleeds lonely drifting ghosts awake
to leave the weight of grief standing alone about the street of my bones
where the rain soaks my resistance far into the earth's carnival echoes wander without a voice
selling land to the world we fail the narrow rumour of success
sonic jism waves bye bye and drags a mad laugh through my mind
in the daytime a thin town stays underground where the far gone fly and scream me
stay on the horizon of someone's brain and spit libido free from torture
after all thoughts hold onto nothing older than marching time
I count death tidily smash and plant instinct till it shines blue
a dream held my hand and talked to me of freedom scrubbed in sonic soap
polished with white noise a dead surprise shines in the eyes of a shaken nomad
a strange death where perfect men in perfect uniforms perform their madness
the celebration of the sun teaches us of confused liberty and the science of compliance
in a freakshow tender trumpets blow bubbles at clowns that don’t have painted smiles
space arrives in a glass case displaying pregnant answers to the eye
a stuttering escape from lunacy sells reason short of sense
leaving a sweet face knowing what sing to the golden gape of light.
Kevin Reid lives and works as a librarian in Angus, Scotland. He has a first class MA Hons. in English Literature. He has lived in a various polemic communities in the North East of Scotland. He also lived naked in a tipi community in the Spanish mountains. When not buying or reading books he writes, paints and enjoys the creative magnificence of digital technology. His work has appeared in The Plebian Rag, Eviscerator Heaven, and accepted for The Recusant and next edition of eleutheria. At present he is working on a collection for his first chapbook.
