Ajax Davis


Collins St

Practise a good face.
Practise a decent fate.
Invent a few more minds for your sake
and mine.
Uninspired writing, looking to be sage
or sadistic.
Tear each limb off.
Oh pain and agony. Ah,
suffering saves me.
But nothing is wrong. My arms twitch in front
of me. Bloody twitches. The blood dries and my
arms crawl back to me. Cold bones, rattled nerves,
my organs hurt. Oh what sage can fix these maladies.
My wallets empty.
My heart runs on electricity.

– Ajax The Street-talker