Neon Pretty

Poem-song from the first album – all about those certain nights out 




I should not be here, walking late
in these neon-pretty twilight zones
I can find no pulse inside me
t’shake my ghost soul bones
the pentagram still binds us
to our spritual needs
I do penance for my conscience
for my unspeakable, unconscionable deeds.

I side-step the nitty-gritty
(and) the Faustian flagstone gaps
I OCD this fly-blown city (and)
these pimp-slap Venus traps
I make love to my long dead ego
with the meow-meow hoi polloi
like a lounge-lizard Lothario
in my unspeakable, unconsionable joy.

[you know the one: the brain-dead red-head,
with the miasma charisma;
and the ghastly mascara…
the Hail-Mary, the what-the-Hell-Mary
a macroscopic body with a microscopic brain
her SAD-donis orbiting her like a demented moon…
breasts and ear-rings swing like pendulums
the joy-toy is drippin’ fat
in the post-sex afterglow ]

Her boyfriend was this dead-eyed dick
with a sociopathic grin
as sociable as a switch-blade click
‘til the lithium citrate wins
I loathe his mono-neurone drone
this chameleonic bore
playing AC/DC phone ring-tones
as he camouflaged
– yes, as he camouflaged the floor.

The juke-box bawls throughout the night
fingers fly on air-fretboards
I was followed by my fans of light
as I shimmied out – through the door
I was grabbed by my Hell-Mary hero
this jumped-up jack-knife quiff
with an IQ near to sub-zero
and he screams at me in hieroglyph:
and he screams at me in hieroglyph:

[he fixes me with a brainless diamond stare
and says you should not be here
– you should not do this
you should not be who the hell you think you are
as Neantherdals in pink leather
orbit and coruscate
around his Cro-Magnon cupcake
– the sap rising in all these homo-sapiens
and the only stars his child sees
– are from her father’s fists ]

The auto-pilot kindly took me home
but as we walked, we were stalked
by splashed, trashed,crashed unfettered chrome
those cruising symbols whose rolling tyres
brushed percussive fills
of absolutely no musical note.

We sang in chromatic harmony
to the humming of the fridges
we drank ourselves insensible
watching acrobatic midges
through the light-bulbed – sun-starved
dregs of night and shadow-carved
the neon-pretty kids – these days
slowly start their – screaming

we just don’t know where it’s leading!
I was slipping slow – I was letting go
into oblivion’s anonymity
I think I grasped an angel’s feather
as red-eyed as no-entry signs
and bleeding, I was blinded
drowning in the neon-pretty…

{ and as the red heralds of Dawn
prise open your blood-shot eyes
you roll over to see Hell-Mary
giving you the Neon Eye
she smiles the demon smile of Succubi
as she sucks you dry… }


© mitch 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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Now I think you Mother Gong, so talented, you must be on Soundcloud, link please or just your nic will do.

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