Johnny Powell and the Seasonal Beasts


Spiders

i once was an old man 
stinking of old hands 
carbed up and cold i would fan 
frosted emotions to stifle the damned 

the thoughts that i've made and the ones that i've scattered 
the garbles of growth or intuitive splatter 
i fell in a hole and i came out as matter 
restricted by a love of myself, getting fatter 

i remember an old life 
held in long dark hair, no midwife 
cloth-bound, feeling israelite 
hallucinations of sand 
shielded by igloo 

outgrown this old trinket 
beat-filled and explored 
still mouth full of biscuit 
i chew like a bore 
and man brings a cookie 
new delight, new shores 
i swim like a bacterium 
in circles, towards 

i remember sounds, finger feelings 
odd, in a sensitive garden 
caught in a temporary world 
of fleeting expansion 

have you ever seen the light?