THERES NO ENGLAND NOW

'another century gone

what will we leave for the young'

dave davies

i
am
listening
to

the kinks

to

the kleptones

to

karen marks
for 

all the vapourised children
who
will
never
hear such feelings

or smile like sunshine

at a small new toy

THATS ALL SHE WROTE

then one bland day
after an average brunchfast
it will actually be

thats all she wrote

but for now anyway
theres black-red wires
coming out my leg

electric veins / electric eels
& pads pulsing like
a hundred pins marching

that i am trying
with all my tomorrows
to not piss on

HYPNAGOG MUSICS 3 & 4

3

innocent alfresco diary

of
wild meadow freedom

shrinking away

shrinking away
from the ache of splendour

4

the invisible miracle

    decorating clocks 

    is music

& the fire of youths razing

left me out on the stones

husked 

FOR MY PEOPLE

read an article in a broadsheet
about the increase of poetry sales
off the back of the odyssey

& the rise of . . . instapoets !?

& briefly piqued i read on 

but i recognised no names there

from right here

& on behalf of my people
i got in a right mood
& i stopped flushing the toilet

until medical intervention
& semantic investigation
arrived me home

HYPNAGOG MUSICS 1 & 2

1

the glass people
in the telephone hole
are timely saluting

an iridescent magpie
in the maudlin mist
of hospital hill


2

the tactile ache
of times balustrade
hurts like whimsy

well
beauty is an augmented riot
&

age a manicured dish rag