Editorial

Punk Couture – The Sea Monsters



The small toe taps under a table,
I can’t dance but through headphones an offbeat rhythm strokes my head,
Whisper into my microphone and holding my attention,
Taking me somewhere off this world,
Lead me with a lyric of intent,
Angstify my heart,
Be perfectly flawed for an audience who appreciate anything less than perfection,
The days are littered with sounds of beauty, who needs that?
Hicksian babysitters buy the musical products of celebrities,
Kill me with harmonies, inject my vein with a cadence a computer can never make,
Please catch me off guard again,
Seep inside the cut you have opened,
Do not be like the rest saying hello to my intrigue and then run away,
It’s always a promise of something to come,
But rarely a mark that something has been,
What a waste.

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