Im eternally grateful

To my past influences

But they will not free me

I am not diseased

All the people ask me

How I wrote "elastic man"*







Life should be full of strangeness

Like a rich painting

But it gets worse day by day

Im a potential dj

A creeping wreck

A mental wretch

Everybody asks me

How I wrote "elastic man"







His soul hurts though its well filled up

The praise received is mentally sent back

Or taken apart

The observer magazine just about sums him up

E.g. self-satisfied, smug







Im living a fake

People say, "you are entitled to and great."

But I havent wrote for 90 days

Ill get a good deal and Ill go away

Away from the empty brains that ask

How I wrote "elastic man"







His last work was "space mystery" in the daily mail,

An article in leather thighs

The only thing real is waking and rubbing your eyes

So Im resigned to bed

I keep bottles and comics stuffed by its head

Fuck it, let the beard grow

Im too tired,

Ill do it tomorrow

The fridge is sparse

But in the town

Theyll stop me in the shops

Verily theyll track me down

Touch my shoulder and ignore my dumb mission

And sick red faced smile

And they will ask me

And they will ask me

How I wrote "elastic man"