InSectEyes By MD Tasker

Blackheaded cockchafers Skittered through dream grass pastures Their stench in the stale bedroom air I inhaled sharply, breaking the surface of my sleep Time unfolding forwards, infuriating already, fast in its creep.

Bathroom door, light, porcelain, liquid splash, squeaking tap, Kitchen, coffee, toast, front door, Keys, ignition, music, cognition Accelerate away, foot flat to the floor. Out into hemmed in lines of insect queues Pulsing crowds, Day-Glo hues Plumes of gas, hot air, Exhaust Street people in oil dust and despair Gather in small knots On arteries, choking, blocked Heat Antagonized mothers Bored little girls clawing at brothers Surly and distant, wanting distance and space Traffic flows through transparent valves Multi-coloured varied patterns overlaid on Apparent chaos city face.

Through this I made My journey of everyday Laid out, open, on surroundings Unthinking idiot god, no boundaries On auto-pilot Seeing money step out of cars Avoiding glancing at bad places Not knowing why I disliked faces

Looking as though they're grafted onto insectile bodies Echoing traces of Our future commodities Copyright ©2004  MD Tasker

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