skip

feet sinking in skips

ripping out objects of interest

when mike king and I were one person

rocks in tube televisions

metal and glass car-crashing in the gold

when breaking things was a pastime

broken windows, stolen hardhats

fire extinguishers extinguishing the setting sun

when friendship was purpose enough

records thrown like frisbees at heads, at bottles

a mess for someone else to tidy up

when girls were future figment

contorting through the church wall hole

cavorting to the hidden place

when smoking brought moronic soma

we could have lived in that skip

we could have made a home of the rubble

we could live in a tree up the hill

when?