1. |
I/Me/Mine
03:11
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Peer out over the toilet bowl and wonder
For one brief fleeting moment
Of the world outside that’s trained on you and you alone
That serves your every whimsical desire
Just you
Wipe your mouth on the napkin of life
Dining in - two for a tenner
A case study in how to serve
The most virtuous of dinners
You’re a good person
You’re a great person
Just you
It’s easy to show
Just how wonder you are
Talking at the people hanging
On every word below
You’re a good person
You’re a great person
You’re the good person
You’re the great person
Where we be without your considerations
Lost, dumb and unguided
Without that proscriptive hand
To help the proles who’re sadly undecided
You’re the greatest person
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2. |
The Great Fall
01:20
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What would I bundle into to my car
If in flight from the next Great Fall?
Would it be items of value?
Appliances shoved alongside a wife and child?
Jewelry to barter? A beloved Nespresso to trade?
Or, forged proof that I conformed?
Lain bare and subordinate
Thrown myself on the altar of righteousness
Backdated to prove it was long before the fashion
Long before it was enshrined into law
By the loud and brutish mobs armed with the dangers of their slave-made telephones
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3. |
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4. |
The Creative
01:03
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How is this dignified?
The daily subjugation
The forced contrition
Deserved by no man of my talents
Unrecognised for my prowess
My redoubtable flair
The consistent quality
My prolific output
The failure is yours
To open your eyes and see
That I am a Creative
And should be revered
as such
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5. |
The Dishonest Age
01:51
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What do you get for the man
Who has everything
And none to moan about
Searching for more
When your options are then
Some-what left in doubt
But there’s a cause du jour
The snakes will gladly sell you
Keeps you locked
Into the social zoo
There are choices that match with your favourite model of Nike
Alleviate boredom and drear and supplement the dullest of life
With preassembled collateral and thoughts to simply wheel out and fight
There’s no need to dig deeper
There’s no need to ask why
All you have to is turn up
And parrot someone’s pre-made lines
All packaged nice and neatly
For good times and raucous fun
Your weekends sorted
You can finally run a bit rife
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6. |
Scot
02:49
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Sitting down to his evening meal, Scott was forlorn. Externalities, but more his own inherent fears, restricted dinner to flaccid cabbage, shredded carrot and an unknown, reconstituted substance passing for meat. Outside, galeforce dread raged. Under doors and through windows it blew, gripping and contorting him beyond recognition, beyond man. Up his arms it crept, into his chest, invisible but there just enough to keep him bound inside a hyperbaric tomb without companionship. He was prostate to it, gripped by absolute anxiety. He dared not take the risk of delivered food.
This was all he deserved. He’d die alone if he entertained the idea. He’d rot invisibly.
Stabbing the limp stir fry with a ‘70s fork, a face appeared in the drab, yellow mush. “You’ve saved yourself today, my friend”, the seething lump sneered, “but your time will come. You’ll see. You’ll eventually see”. Trembling to these foreboding words spat with a foul gas and flecks of onion, he flung the plate across the room, the contents hurtling into the kitchen and across a scuffed linoleum floor. Re-composing itself into a mat of vegetable-flecked noodles, Scott could see the face staring back at him from the other side of his period flat. Within its bulbous, asymmetrical eyes he confronted his fears and failures but, more than anything, in the face of that talking, scathing spoil he saw his own, eventual deprecation.
Tears streamed down Scott’s face. This portending food, concocted to keep the world at bay, began to edge towards him in haphazard fits and jerks. It left behind a slimy trail of Pick ‘n Pay’s own-brand black bean sauce. Inching ever closer, an incredible weight bore down upon his reluctant shoulders - an understanding of his place, glimpses of a capitulated life, a vision of the end. Were he to succumb to fear, to yield to this grotesque aberration that gawped and gulped like a floundering fish that gasped his name repeatedly, he’d succumb, in full, to the terrors of life.
Scott rued that terrible meal and his own cowardice. Gasping himself and clawing his chest at the anxiety eroding from within, he grabbed a nearby broom and struck the life-consuming monstrosity over and over again until he, and his kitchen, and the walls, and the well-worn lounge carpet were covered in sticky lament.
Standing alone in the empty flat he realised: pizza would never talk to him like that.
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7. |
Exile And The Kingdom
01:49
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8. |
Walk With Me
02:49
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9. |
Expensive Shirts
02:06
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Those that fawn over workwear are some of the saddest.
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10. |
Thank You For Joking
02:59
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Man Matters London, UK
Men.
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