Posted on



oh so so

below absolute zero

frosty bitch






your odiferous control box

spewing predictable superfluous


you were mine before the start

No   – my mark

six months out I reeled you in

slick you bite so tight on the greedy tip

there never WAS any gold

the real treasure you wore

around that stealing nugatory neck

a real sui generis

mon amour

I leave you to soak

in your nice putrid bath

of synchro karmic collision vulture shit


copyright 2016












About a. edward watkins

With the exception of 2 years study of western music theory and harmony- I am a self taught percussionist, writer and abstract painter. Not your drummer boy drummer - not your writerly writer nor the painterly painter. Creativity is an integral aspect of my existence - as it is for us all - in some form or another. My experiences in life have informed and shaped my world view profoundly. I am the disrupter - the never quite satisfied - the relentless creator of word, sound and image. I question the answers and question the questions.

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