Pulled Into Line

Pulled Into Line


Pull yourself into line
Passing as flies pass cars on motorways lucky enough not to connect
Unaware of each others existence alone in this mire of mine
But with fleeting glances one simply can not effect
Ones love for a world gone awry
When violent confrontation is a continual story
No longer the sensation of a boring day
but the normality in a boring subsistence
so common to put your attributes on display
that I shy away, coy and appropriately sad with little resistance

pull myself into line
draw upon courage from my fantasy of day dreaming.
daring to drop my hood on the way to work
Roaring louder than Salto Ángel as if to say "do you heathen scum hear me screaming? "
Forever lost is an appetite of real carnage
So thought many a scholarly gent
Torn back from the brink, now not lost to infinity is primordial rage
On slaughtering a nobody feral teen I’m bent
Pulling my way to a claret covered bus stop
Already death hath passed this way
Waiting for the 8.15 some heads he did lop
Decapitated looks of incredulity lie in the gutter, still where whomever did slay
Had left them, probably whilst laughing.


Pull the other one driver!
Refuses my ten pound note as he has no change
Scouser too! Slowly I explain that I will report the useless skiver
And at a rush a compromise he did arrange
jerking along sickeningly, sanity giving headphones help me ignore that soon
Orange bricked, glass domed cantos of misery spread themselves before
badly manicured lawns and a broken fountain, low is the current garden budget
My cheap suit not uncommon, not here will poor taste earn you deplore
As long as pointless greedy targets are met

Pulled up in front of my yuppie simpleton of a supervisor
pin striped macho tough guy, likes tits & beer and speaks awfully blunt
false as Adolph's loyalty to the deposed Kaiser
is my deference to this prize cunt
dismissed back to my pine bunker in a Formica edged cage,
diminished pride barely motivates me from walking out
thoughts of Thai beaches help me engage
with the protocol of selling, morality again in doubt

Pulchritude of a hazel eyed siren
flattens itself across my mind
attacking receptors filled with hate, from threads of self pity spun
after a capitalist despair had left me blind
she cuts through my knitted agony
of this worlds selfish lust for a quick quid
or violent, rushed, drunken sex spree
camouflaged in my mind as normal, common sense hid
behind the four day weekend
of promiscuity

Not since she pulled me into line.