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?