(AppreCJ8n, 0.46: Smilove)
- ifoy warz hoomun loife
alien ta allbodies? She said She could still see me.
Evenif i disfigure hoomunloife alienin allbodies?
Deface evenifty figurines,
fuggerate memories' faces, rather than commityet
ta endofthefuture memories precursor,
drear dour dominance of allthe deadever?
Wou'd Yerstay withme, Cee, You Cexyshapeshifter of
cosmesis constant, styleshifter
whom decaded pix depict as picture
of daffy dignity and habitual variety, quitecontrary
like a riot. You're fashionably postfashion,
n'tafter a fashion
nowadays now Ya Spoice o' loice's,
tho' when every body's dresssense wozjustanothercasualty
of the nineteeneighties, a corporate paisley of ties and real fake tans,
You were shoulderpadded and powerhaired
too. But wowalways Belle of the Worksdo! Y'were, only no
greenhearted monion at norwich onion
evertold You. Have a Smile that'll surge thru those who clock it in photos
yearslaternow - they'll think thankthelawd outloud,'o lawd,
for a life spent in old photos!' tho' really thankingYou
fortheir themories of my Smilersmiling - 'ven when
there wozza mozzagothtintin newwavey thing
on Yourhead, historicalcuriosity coiffure, one for the scrapped
yards and yards of hacktlox, combed thru yearbooks,
offcuts to plait ta the moon. And a kitchendrawer
and atticfloorof old instantcolour snaps capture
my Smiler, mardy and moundy due ta due miracle
birdshit of pushing halfpints, umbilical punters.
Past last orders at the womb
now the mood is all protected. Smilershe beams
like a happy scythe, ah laseryepiphany. Home's
wherever my Styleshifter, Hygge Spider lays Her ex
ta rest. my Lovernow staysmiling at me, eventill the fatal future
fartles past irreminding mind. Neither flashfade
like a fad, or heavily flee, for i daren't face
a future of memories as swish as Us - o 'lone, such gemories
would be condemories,
a mortified kiss from a diabolicallyfresh ghost of bliss.
o Shapelyshapeshifter, Smilingwoman,
stay every You. Every You can stay
up all my alleys and avenues,
on the main and in sideroads where memories loiter.
Well i was on kinghorn road about an hour ago...
Everyyou can stay neverchange changing,
but You muzzunt everchange forever, Changel, Clarejanegel.
Tho' - tho' don't n.b. - personally i plan tapile onthepounds,
omnibulge, indulge till i'm eyejohncandy,
expandbeyonda blobhood o' longterm-
inology, somehow bedoubledby suppers in thekettle, tab pud
instead - oh, 'bout tenmonths in.
In the goldentriangle ofsoulswhoshouldaskfordirections, roundby
the minjiest ratbag chipshop in colman-
town. Whatja mean meeny mineymoems, artain't completelycomplaints?!
Like all of adam's abandoned macbethmarkd sons,
i am dysfingered and defig, i am disfigured and disfigure, things i make
break all things, asselfaccidentharmprone
as memories where lice come from.
But now i can only be overgrotesque, toomuchof me,
disfigured like a billboard if
Cee ceeses ta crease up. Sweetie's chickle, Smile of my life
'll chuff me, even when You getabit oldbattier. Won't be like
an o.a.p. in an s-o-a-p,
f'reven tho' thestuffof esoeses eastenders
is an old friend on beeba-
blimeycee, where mockney grotbags offtheir rocknies
boo 'n' hiss from safe diss tents
or arthur's bench of carthursis,
them slanderettassistants o' woebefell walford cattier
than a stereotypicky shirtlifter.
But Cee She's mylifter, i am lofty in myshell.
Cee, oh arrr Yar moi cor,
for Cee yearn eyes, Belle Eve in adamitism or a damn tightfitism,
licey's Limey Monalisa no fashionista shud' withacid advice innerblister:
She doesn't needtabe painted ta touch me.
Swivel syanara, Senorita Si-yay,
ando i'll stomp mi feet-a, boot my metaphorical tiara.
Yerwivme 'ven juan Yearn knot,