Thursday, 29 June 2017


the day 
all the days
i dont know what to do with them
theyre like tambourines 
in the snow

i got my colour tv 
and my dylan lps
i grind up fresh coffee beans
breathing new stainless 
electric vapour
up at the same ceiling whirls
where my grandfather
blew his yellow pipe smoke

the days well theyre like
one of those portraits 
in a gallery
or on a wood paneled wall 
in a horror films 
creaking mansion
where the painted eyes 
seem to follow you
which ever chair arm
you perch on dubious
and sipping at a drink

the days well theyre like 
i been flagged up
and all the teachers
and all the policeman know
and now theyre ready
to bear down
and bite at my ear
angry with agendas
angry with the writing
and the unmowed lawn

Image result for colour tv


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