Tickets bunched in grubby mitts
and a red carpet like a lolling tongue -
these are the totems of my success.
Does THIS Answer Your Question, Jasper?
is a box office smash - so many people
go to see it that there is no projectionist
to play the film; empty aeroplanes
plunge from a violet skyline
while heart monitors echo a long, flat tone
through abandoned burns units.
I trudge through a ghost city,
no one around even to pitch
a milk bottle at my head
and call me bastard.
This trash-blown alley is a fisheye lens,
my despair comes apart like a soundstage.