Lupy Poem by Kevin Eaglesfield

Brighty-darky time again,
But I'm used to it.
God it hurts though.
It's like being branded, flayed and crucified
All at once, or so I imagine,
Although reason's a luxury these days,
So when I can, I write.
Sometimes my writing's different,
Or I destroy it when I'm away.
The watcher can't get in then,
Or the bullet-man in at the window
With the colours coming out of his mouth.
I want Manny with his goodbye grin,
And a face each side of his head.
He can stop the foam pouring over everything
Like oil, so I can't grip,
And we can build a ladder of bones
To the moon.