EVERY NIGHT I SPIT A BIT

made into this

as green that goes down
onto the line
the smell of burning oil
the neckless white wall
shirts and shoes
bow ties slowly readymade
after-shave and tooth-pickers
paint that screams and
blurs into intimacy
the red dark noise
pumping hard
and running out of gas
feeling pain while birds
sing along on time
coconuts and short-tails
children who fuck and dream
not even waving goodbye
and every single little year until
we fucking die