Martin Lochner comes from Cape Town,South Africa. He spend most of his leisure days in town observing the city life and goes home to compose his work. 1
Midnight I spend
to find your sorry ass
barefoot behind the chemist
floating high in your deep, manhole fancies in daisy coloured skies of lollipop meth
Still trying to pose some dignity Mother taught us with the help of sweet Jesus Christ
Spaced out and drifting with an outstretched hand to be saved, I assume
“Come on home” I said
Integrate ---halogen burning the vision blind
Integrate -- magic monkeys screaming the vision deaf
Integrate - LSD hysteria in graffiti, barbwire heroin fiery against the wall
A spend soul that forgot his weeping mother and fuck our daddy that forgot us a long time ago when he took the train one morning to Brooklyn to spend his inflated liver on drink and skirts.
It is tarmac hallelujahs with a silly dollar to feel sorry for all of us
“Hey little apple go get yourself a cup of Joe”
“Hey little bro, Momma is waiting”
Recognition fails and the sorry ass bum says
“Don’t you have another dime to spare?”
2
Got home early morn and reported that salvation was still born in blank eyes
“Little apple is still crashing high dear Mamma “
Worn down she says “one day that vein injected dragon will find him and incinerate his sorry ass”
She cried, cried, and I wailed because she cried.