Monday, 22 July 2019

BACK TO THE PLASTIC MACHINE GUN




writing
is the Hardest Easy thing
to do

see-
one profundism
&
i am stuck already . . .

back to the
plastic machine gun
&
its liquid crystal eye

& the words

my beautiful 
pain-in-the-arse 
friends

what weird route
have you booked for me today 
on 
your
little yellow 
mountain train





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Friday, 19 July 2019

RIPTIDE BEFORE SLEEP



wheres all my stuff ?

the stuff i chucked out
over all the many years

where is it all now ?

landfill . . .

yeah i know in landfill
but where ?

anyone smoked 
a million cigarettes
you think ?

maybe william burroughs did
or half of greece

my to-do list
says
do to-do list

what earworm song
will i wake with ?

had - material girl
      isla bonita
      i see a darkness
      &
      halls of montezuma
this week already 

you can call me al ?
      again ?

now - box of rain
that would make a change

lego . . .
lego !

is a rapist
wearing my
charity shop
donations ?

add actually
to to-do list

the big sea
the big BIG SEA

dont want to think about it

who had a high time
on my drugs they stole
glastonbury 199?
they got sooooo lucky . . .

in the wheatsheaf
before its
crossrail 
displacement-
was it dave i saw ?
looked like dave
didnt acknowledge me

did i stare too much ?
i had a clabby sweat
dave or not

underline actually ?

whats under the ground ?
i mean now
under me now
deep deep down

a trapped river ?
plague bones ?

dont want to think about it

space
big big BIG SPACE

us
on a ball
hurtling
nowhere

just this simple wall
just this old glass
between us
& all the world has
& all the world takes

just this simple wall
just this old glass
between us

the 
universes
unknowable 
mystic void

dont want to think about it

redo to-do list
i think

from scratch be best

cause im a material girl

living in a material world

birds
i mean look at them
they fly

tiny hearts
tiny tiny hearts
beating 
beat-beat-beating in there

they have hollow bones
whats inside them ?

air ?  helium ?

where
is 
all 
my 
stuff ?







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from health.howstuffworks.com

Thursday, 18 July 2019

FLYING LOW




satellite skies
&
tv eyes

over us -

mortal meat-motor pies

bound up in 
bogus satin 

sweaty highs

&
one
   collective
             drunk 
                  undone 
                        fly






Wednesday, 17 July 2019

STUFFING THE VOID




this poem
can be 
for / about / at / up

anything . . .

scripted weeping
top 5 stolen foods
best looking teens
the poor whales
rude cities
unclaimed jackpots
bird strike costs
bodies found in a belfast home
the poor poor whales

& thats just half 
of page 2 
in an old newspaper

i added whales twice
its my poem
& they deserve better

my point is
empty freedoms gutless balls
make a mess
like this is

change the filter out
lock shit down
f o c u s

back to 
kung fu
in a
phone box

my own
open g





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from tresgatos.net