BETWEEN THE MOTORWAY & THE SLIPROAD & THE BRIDGE

& nowhere to be

& there we are

in the seeding grass

of no-mans-land

one hundred cigarettes deep

between the motorway

& the sliproad

& the bridge

& traffics full on

& windscreens flash white 

& up all night

& quoting steppenwolf now

on this wildflower clay

between the motorway

& the sliproad

& the bridge

MORE FOOL ME

my
handwriting
has
been
on
a
journey
into
shit
&
not
yet
back

& the trigger

was my experiment

in cursive numbers

more fool me

HA(NU)KU CAFE

coffee

corner table

three line poem

FOUR BY FOUR & THREE BY FOUR

sick days have time

for a biopsy punch

of the prologue past

so instead of that

i stretch out

& teach myself

an impromptu class

on counterproductive semantics

THANKS & PLEASE

 

had enough of living
in interesting times thanks

could do with some
uninteresting times now please

downtime in the pit

with the maintenance pros

to breath & mourn
& catch up some