ENTROPY BEIGE

the
urge
itch

& need
to make something be here

that wasnt here before

is unexplainable

to anyone

who never looks at the sky

~

i makes a mess on another canvas
in the morning breeze & sun
scraping the thick colours around

& covering up again
the layers of form

& the layers of chaos

into a thick 

smear & pebbling
of summer bugs & entropy beige

BAD NEWS ANTIDOTE - SMALL TOWN FLUFF 1

written as a a reaction 

to the horror & toilet

of global news'

seamless rolling hysterical misery

i present bland events

i call Small Town Fluff

~

everyone is unsurprised

when the bagel place on the corner
shuts after only a year

everyones suspicious are compounded

as the vape shop up the road 

expands into a unit twice as big

& the weather is like yesterdays weather

& no one has been hurt

& cats watch from windowsills

the dogs walking up the park

LENOR, MIXED MEDIA & NOTE TO SELF

 

the

fresh
washing
smells
alternatively
of 

an idyllic storyland spring

like a forest mammals tea party

that sort of thing
& 

the breakfast room of a devon b&b 

with triangles of room temp toast

in a wire rack

wait / hang on / remembered something -

Note To Self -

wondering why 

the art term Mixed Media

seems to rub me wrong

no clear reason

must think on this further

i mean the worlds mixed media too

KICK

i put the record on
& its bright & right there

& full of a memory

movie-sunny saturday

train to the coast

sta prest trousers

(knock-offs from behind the market

 follow the path

 of rain stained cardboard 

 & heavy bin stink

 & go up a staircase like a secret

 with the smoothest wooden handrail

 & loosest carpet runner)

& hair gel like shellac

gone fly-away by lunch

nineteen eighty something

school almost done

POSSIBLE REPOEM

i must have expressed before

in the spill of pub table ash

corralled by spent matches

maybe

or 

on a paperbacks flyleaves 

left in a green field

i thought was a cold steel rail

how i cant tell 

zen from madness 

or 

denial from a medical high

& how the rub & nub & oomph of it

is if it really matters

but i am sure of this -

i still find it poem

to difficult an end well