Seven O'Clock is Perverse

Seven o'nine to be precise, in the AM. Disgusting, isn't it?
I want to give you something creative, but I haven't got anything new. I was, however, going over some things that are older and I am determined to write again, soon.
In other news, I have been branching out artistically...I have a little silk bound pillow book that I usually ramble into, but I recently realised that, despite the fibrosity of the paper (it's hand-made), I could really go to town with some dip pens and light washes, if I was careful to use blotting-paper.
Guh. Yes, I know...I know.
I'm going to try to have another WIP of my painting up today or tomorrow. Because we all know that come Friday I'm going to be up to my knees in other things.
Namely, poo.
Well, being incapable of posting my own work, I'm going to post one of my favourite writers ...*drum roll*...Tiger!
This one is called 'Elliptical'

When the light sparkles every eyelid eats the sky.
The purple skirts of flesh
That blossom through the legs so tantalising ----

Each smile equals
A rose-beam
that reddens in the sun

with it's fiery flames screaming like an engine
The streets red with its demon eye.

And why do I
Stand listening to the siren sound
Awaiting the dent, a crush, a smash, a wail?

Every flower has a life, the red is evidence.