talking sculpture

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shallow little rubber bumps and concrete pimples tell me what my eyes forgot and quickly feet arch bounce pleated up to meet that shiny steel lip. fingers lead my arm stretching through sardine bodies elbow for a pole and my body is in passenger. toes poised and pressed, knees bent opposite oiled hair, ironed hair, orange hair, skin peels off my legs second skin removed and slick with sweat and theirs, yellowing rubber peeling around the edges of stretched rows of seats, curved plastic perforated six times for the optimal aural experience, air ridden, approaching. barrier of vaseline absorbs into membrane and blocks out window of opportunity. swirling patterns on the already scratched panes, tips glowing. skate socks and a gold tooth glint in the fluorescent lighting, a sweet vanilla smell with gasoline and rubber charge you’re already wrinkled breath.

pumps clicking over the haze of the noise, sitting on the heels of your frayed reeboks, praying. chin waving to the sky and the lino like a dashboard animal, wandering eyes, wandering smile. hot air enters with a glazed sheen. one man with small creases pleated untidily like a balled sock, outwards from an avoiding stare, beige cotton jacket and a forgiving longing to be left alone. no paper no listening you’re asking for it. unsubtle discomfort stricken and laid down and out, we’re all here and we’re all completely alone. 

becoming a pole dancer. becoming safe. becoming of you. i walk over to the pole and at first i stroke it but as my feet warble knees buckle earth vibrates i grip all the way around meeting my belly on the coldness, it feels so good i rest my forehead on it for a while but the vibrations rattle my brain too much. slushy. navy armpit rises above my head and a hand appears right above mine. eyes borrow the floor half covered with their little skin shells. flicking your hair, you’re bald and i’m haired. you’ve got little plaited micros black at the start and purple at the finish. wirey yellow bush twisting into my collar, i can’t see your hair. twists of orange ringlets spiral out of your milky scalp almost see through in the blue hued strip lights like hot and spicy nik naks. tufts of coffee hair oiled and combed across a speckled egg head, gripping your cappuccino to death, and staring at the backs of your red rimmed glasses

the metallic taste of someone else’s tunes oiled and drummed for only an intimate recital (recall?) letting the rest of us wriggle around in a lucrative acrimony. stainless steel melts1450 celsius inox inoxidizable not enough sucking lips and snake plant, spider plant chinese evergreen to leave a waxy print impression breath of condensation on your skin. brushed hair drips. you evaporate and i stay here climbing up the stairs walking on silky pages of silky caramel skinned babes. how cute babe. stay away babe, can i stay babe? no babe.

bubbling lips foaming, skin scum lies down for the night in the corners of your wobbling chops, screaming DRINK, its not going to be a horlicks from the smell of your wailing and you’re dancing with your crop tops and chokers taking the piss hands round your neck snaking down your hips next to your vodka and coke stained tube skirt. saturday and i’m here half conscious rubbing my gums searching for the reason i’m here at all. is it cool babe?

familiar glance at a wanton curve. each one of my fingers dipped in honey silken glass finger tips sliding around next to each other, made public fingers turn to glue and rubber. sticky under the heat of the sun. 

hips swivel, toes twist later comer dashes body through lips sliding around his slender body scissoring his legs in half until he whips them out under his hips and gets the eyeball applause of all onlookers. 

vitamin d sinks in battenberg marzipan skin slippery straying around cellulite hips. love handles. white glare dots in the corner of your eyes reflections from seventy sunglass reflections staring from the inside of wide brimmed hats and england caps buckets hats perforated with air hole eyelet, plastic extensions frazzling, oiled black skin glistening pale white skin glistening in white and pink sheen caramel baked old skin orange in heat, tanned babe. water like a daylight disco ball. crepuscular ray shoots an inflatable crocodile underfoot. petrichor is the distinct scent of rain in the air. it’s the name of an oil that’s released from the earth into the air before rain begins to fall. sand splashes around moist ankles, anarchy rising. 

i dont want to be any where else 

he said ‘your eyes are looking around’ 

i’m here with you

he said ‘where are you?’

i’m here with you hun, i always am

he said ‘is that really what you want?’

i’m here hun, i’m here hun 

he said ‘why are you talking to me?’

i love you hun

he said ‘sorry, i don’t even know you’

my eyes meet his eye lips still, earphones in, he gets off at the next stop,

he says ‘get away from me’

why are you being like this babe? 

he says ‘can someone get this woman away from me?’

dribbling onto the white collared shirt of a middle aged man when you fall asleep on your connecting night bus. small darkened stain where you're own saliva lies. sorry babe. sorry babe. 

stretched out like elastic like a cat in the sun basking it’s belly in the glorious warmth finger tips on cold ridged plastic spaced out like a knuckle duster bending your shoulders in bending your shoulders back holding your breath hearing your heartbeat listening to the whistles of the squeaking plastic listening to the vibrations of the tesco bag on the floor, 

pianos clink ice clink heels clink teeth clink dicks clink ice clink door clink lies clink eyes clink spies clink sheets clink works clink chairs link belts clink punches clink silver clink trash clink talk clink tricks clink tricks clink tricks clink tricks clink tricks clink tricks clink tricks clink tricks clink tricks clink (loop)