Sex Toy



In many ways the beauty of your poems belies the sadness of your subtext, and the chord it strikes should not be heard. If I could describe your words as sensations, this would come close. There is something about them that jolts the brain. I surrender to them, when perhaps I should not.

And as I read and re-read each nuance. each couplet, each verse trying to understand; I know that I am on a fools errand. I cannot decode your enigma encoded syntax, however I can (and always seem to) bite the poisoned apple. Sometimes life throws up situations that are not really problems. They cannot be solved like a puzzle. They just are.

When each meaning has been stretched out of context, and each statement has been analysed to destruction, you are left with just words in a row. Rearrange these into a well known phrase or saying; sorry am so I.

Until next time the penny falls in your marvellous machinery,


ps. i listened and tried to imagine the video. And failed. My imagination is to the negative power of yours. But I found the track hypnotic. I hope that was your desired effect. That and the idea that someone will suddenly find a big horse in their garden and wonder what is inside it.