Grey from Forcefeeding by James Jefferys

Jimmy Biggs - Grey

Dirty cloths,
Galleon moths
Mounds of moth-eaten rats and
Soft as old clay
All the world’s grey, but not in the place where it matters

Blesséd to bask
Distressed in the mask
Another rough casket to flatten
Soft as the skull of a babe
All the world’s grey, but not in the place where it matters

Shaking the chasm in
With tainted fathoming
Drooling, sedate and taciturn
Soft as this day
All the world’s grey, but not in the place where it matters

The butterfly no longer sings
Something slyly touched its wings
And no more trips to Saturn
Soft as old hay
All the world’s grey, but not in the place where it matters

Oh! To know! Where did you go?
I’d sell my whole body in parts
For one good idea, vivid and clear
Up on its haunches in the hearth.

• Acoustic
• Atmospheric
• Experimental
• Junkyard
• Lyrical
• Aarhus