Silence the scream

How do I silence the scream?
The long, unbearable scream that lives in my guts,
my throat, my head and longs to pour out through my teeth.
I feed it with cigarettes, whisky, sunshine and music.
And promise that one day we’ll run away.

Evening sunlight,
pouring through granite clouds,
screams back at me
over the gaping flat roofs and elevator huts
of Bristol’s rotten dentistry.
Crumbling, yellowing and bathed
in the decaying light of the day.

How much longer can this be a means to an end?
Oh Lord, let it keep gliding by,
anonymous in its perpetual motion.
Don’t let it stop.
Never let it claim me as its own.

If it pleases you, fly me back to Texas,
on a carpet of frozen cloud,
where I can be 6 foot 4, straight backed
in checked shirt, boots and a fine white hat,
and check my cynicism in at the door.

Or hurl me down the tarmac
to marvellous Manhattan.
Surround me with high walls, broad streets
and wide-open minds,
to survive on never-ending coffee and bagel breakfasts.

Keep me moving.
Never let me stop.
Let each rising of the sun be an end in itself.
Silence the scream.