rebelling in an austere fourth floor flat
on Westbourne Grove
with an English Aphrodite
who carved reluctant patterns into limbs
over memories remembered
or constructed
designer clothes and liquor bottles scattered
bloodstains on the walls
the splintered door
small hours spiked with quarrels and ad-libbed conversation
downloaded tunes and abstract youtube clips
beyond the curtain snarling city traffic
an alabaster moon
rain filled with ghosts
and between psychotic episodes and complicated noise
cigarettes and intense sex in character
me scribbling into notebooks
she on twitter
then one jaundiced dawn through vodka eyes
all she saw were devils
spat bullet words into the phone
and police like angry gods began to warn
they cursed me cruelly cuffed me dragged me off
to stare at walls and listen to the weather
with villains violence compromise
and questions quiet
like prayers
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