Make Me Young, Etc


when moments swelled with the bedroom's bright air,

each a parachute unmade

to make your last evolution,

but somehow you didn't disappear.

Where do you go now?

They put out that final fire that burned the maps you made to disappointing fictional cities.

Not before you learned to see through their walls.

Let me stay here forever.

And what do you do, when you survive the building falling?

And what happens next, when you've been groomed hard for destruction?

And how do you map beyond the route you find appalling?

When we're out of lives,

we scatter with each fresh instruction.


The letter's been in the post long before you were born.

Why bother trying to breathe this small speck of forever?

Your first moment of holy fear, hidden on a train, waiting for another fight to start, you suddenly see—

all these ruined specimens,

weighing their intractable, eccentric ruminations,

are still spectacular feats of insane engineering.

Doze off,

and dream of debris impact on the atmosphere,

strobing like tree shadows on closed eyelids, through a car window.

Wake up to a scent that shocks you back into youth,

 the way you never thought you'd be again;

 like flicking a switch.

 Somebody's perfume gets in your skull,

and sparks fly on the flint of your lizard brain again;

makes you smile, now

—you follow the scent overground.

You decide—

everything they taught you was your bodyweight

is nothing more than the clothes you wore for a joke,

and everyone peels off for an ocean suicide.

Hand in hand into the water beaming wide.

Beautiful holy fear for a precious moment.

When the scent evaporates

—just like blood will clean itself of last night—

then you understand that scent

was ancestral nostalgia.

Come on and take me;

I understand now.

I have been waiting so long.

All that I tasted was some future atom drifting from space to my tongue.

And then I, then I realise,

it's just a letter written in Widmanstätten, posted years ago.

And it's been travelling across the universe

and soon it's going to arrive,

bearing its message,

five hundred miles across and wreathed in flaming satellites.


Time is up:

  • hope you had a whole bunch of fun while you could.


When the asteroids breach the atmosphere, take a seat for the show.

When the asteroids breach the atmosphere

I would rather not be so preoccupied with the knots I worked hard to tighten up

that I forget to laugh my body dry.

Look at the way they run around.

Scatter, scatter nowhere,

just stand and greet the impact with your first and final smile.

For the first and last time

you see your lifetime companion's crown

breaching up above,

inviting you to breathe in the cooked air;

scent, so strong,

renders you still.

A continent's skyfall,

baptised in the sea,

and as the waves begin,

freeze that moment of your life

so it lets you stay here


Take this useless sadness and throw it away, now.

Take this useless sadness and throw it away.