HAUNTED PORK WANTS

HINTERLAND MAZE

years like an exocet
days like a mule

dance the doldrum salad
into
a
vegetable rainbow

mourn
the rush
the gush
the warming

yawning down tricyclics
for
the
long black backlash

sublimely stalling
in
the
hinterland maze
of
youths
ambiguous
destination

from keywordsuggest.or

DISCLAIMER

i dont know what a poem is.  i wouldnt presume to know what a poem is.  i forget what a poem is.

limerick-

there was a young man called dagenham
(tho he wasnt really)
who wasnt actually from dagenham
(its a place)
he was called ford
(tho he wasnt really)
he didnt drive a ford
(he didnt drive anything)
there was a ford plant at dagenham
(its closed now)

see ?

sea.

so poems- mistakes and a glue gun.  a treaty on demarcation zone minutiae written in the fidget trenches of the eternal war of blessed blamed cursed crimson existence.  an inscription on a longsword slicing all the phantom and branded umbilicals.

i remember a rule-
persistence.

i remember a rule-
resistance.

so poems- an idea laid with class.  a remembered event invested with the importance of diminished years . . . the curse of the rosy glasses.  catch it if it lets you.  or track it for months for years thru the slimy undergrowth of yesterdays unglorious murk.

so poems- rain in the morning.  a lovers yawn.  a cats paw.  washing on a summer line.  jism in a prism.  ibsen in prison.

gypsum.
krypton.
jism in a prism.

so poems- an investigation of the motivation of the population in copulation.

cos someones doing it somewhere at any and every time of the day.  liquid soul.

so poems- commiseration of deliberation.  misappropriation of defibrillation.  the consternation of the factotum.  adoption on probation.

my war gone by.  i miss it so.

so- see ?
sea.
   
when its a stale wall, all a stale wall, no cracks in there to mine, i look out the window.  

i climb the shoulders of misanthropes.

the wall defends itself and i know nothing.

i read guff and buck.  
i read james elroy.
i read backwards.
i read me and wonder.
wonder and me read i.

so poems- a by product or end product ?

so poems- i have lost what they are.  so i read.  on the toilet.  stuff out one end and in the other.  i see if i can recognise one when i see it.  the poems.  not the shit.  tho some days . . .

and theres some kind of gulf thats crossed when you open a book.  rewards are a crapshoot.  force of will.

haiku-

i write a haiku
forget how many syllables
still pond water ripples

see ?

sea.

words are nothing without an order.  except for some . . . like pandemic and exit.  i am one of shakespears monkeys.  i wrote his full stops.

so i leave the mess thats not a mess.  i take a breath that is a breath.  i breath in a mess . . . and play music out the player- borrow someone elses breath-mess.

so i manufacture broad advice- cherish the many and any gendered rocks we lean on.  dont live for heaven.  its not there.  its here.  and its fucked.  unfuck your corner everyone.

make it up.  blow smoke on it.

now i am always saying that.

write something.  persistence.  it will have its own curve if its true.  you have to listen to it.  have to see.

sea.

like its a river.  ride it out to sea.  see.  and abandon it well before land falls from view.

sea.

dont try.  do.
if you cant do.  do anyway.  lip read your heart beat.

dont do - do more.

i am in a kerfuffle.  an echo bubble.  and the banter with the voices- gone clabby and awkward.  like someone i worked with six years ago next to me on the bus.

to paraphrase the stones- its only poetry, but i (think) i like it.

i hope it likes me.  for realsies.
should i ask it ?
or watch tv ?

see ?
sea.

welcome to plastic zen.

from fanpop.com

FROM THE SOFA

KNOB HANDLES

MUSIC POP

you
put
it
on

cos you like it

enjoy that rare simplicity

and
hallucinate and travel
at
will

SPAM SHOW

them-
feeding
their
time
into
the
memory
blender

me-
watches
from
the
other
side
of
the
farm

you-
read
a
hundred
meanings
or
none

us-
haunted
spam
show

with
no
good
ending

from youtube.com

SOFT EPISODE

BEDROOM LANDS 5

back
then

we said Boat Drinks
like in that film
like we had control

unthinking 
on dry drained 
hill marsh land

but our plans had their own plans-

shot up the arse
left in a dumpster

like in
that film

~

back
then
the  

s e p a r a t i n g  

moves of universal turns
sat messed up and howling 
in homebrew sediment

and who were we
to do anything
but
wait and roll ?

~

moves
bit
unstoppable
in
unrememberable
goodbye slices

alone but for horses
i saw a bird
fly backward
in high wind

on the allotment path
one dishcloth day

~

bedroom lands become
unhome rental holes

damage deposits

711 stolen bread

weird vibes
in
the
broken lift stairwell

new pub desperation
sang lionel richie
down
the
landline

~

and the hedgehogs
that patrolled
parent-tended
moon-silver lawns

where we barked our drum beats
till the grey paste dawn

are
gone
too

brian may
tv speaks
his
springwatch concern

from express.co.uk

BEDROOM LANDS 4

RIZLA

same smell 
of MFI MDF

same stolen
brown laminate 
canteen trays

but
a 
different 

rainbow of rizla



CIGARETTES

with six
types of weed

i would cry
accidentally on speed

its 
more damn cigarettes
i need




ADIDAS

all
the
reformed monsters
got 
the
same
denim
on

subpop shirts

competing rubber-toe adidas
ripcurl
on 
coiled 
cable 
carpet



CABLES

snake atrophy

twist like art
to
vhs and crt

and back-of-a-lorry
monitor audio cones

plastic rivers
thru 
the 
kipple crumbs and carcinogens
of 
one-room 
living




SHOE RULES

smell-
different washing machine protocol

different shoe rules
differently observed

same mellow smoke billow
hugs same artex

same hot rocks
puncture different pillow

same empties
ashtary sentries
on the floor



HIGH

and
my
face was weird
in
the 
watermark mirrors
of
different bathrooms
different light

wasted and drained

pale and bombastic

high

pic from india.com

WHATS KNOWLEDGE GOT TO DO WITH IT ?

if
you
dont
KNOW
who
you
ARE

you STILL are
who YOU are

knowledge
is
your 
court appointed
system obligated
defence

inhale it
and
you shit
your animal 
out

from screenrant.com

THE PEOPLES AND THE WING MIRROR

STREET SHAPES

BACK THEN

at

3
4
5
AM

i walk home

headphones in 
something psychedelic 
on
a
magnetic reel

sailing above time

and
i
ask
the
night
cats
impossible questions

under the moons
stained hole

and
aid
stuck hedgehogs
up
the
fortress
wall
of
curbstones

away from dawn traffics
killing
wheels

from adamiphoto.com

CLOG THEIR GRAVY TRAIN

from thomaswictoc.com

GOD THING