BEHIND THE BRICK & CONSENSUS

noons the new midnight

dusks a ceasefire relief 

dawn games are welcome 

     

i play there

     

like canute did 

with the tide

~

our deal with the dark

        is always in play

i stretch out there 

        sweating bleach

waiting for the time out

            the short death

            the hallucinations

        

   behind the privilege bricks 

        

   

OUTSIDE THE CAMDEN LOCK SKUNK FUNK

the national front

bomber jacket babies

surfaced streetside
to flog tired bile

& always 

they were heckled 

down down & away

by the greenpeace / cnd / big issue posse

outside the camden lock skunk funk

& suede jacket sales


~

i assumed progress was momentum

not a shrinking isthmus

oh my rosy glasses

ANALYSING OUR END FOR THEMSELVES

 

paradigm shift

priorities are

a rush to name it well

jacuzzis in the bunker

& apocalypse shows 

to saturate the tv streams

~

sociologists 

rub their hands / ring their hands

reach for the thesaurus

peer review

& gin 

analysing our end for themselves

SHOWER ROULETTE & MAINTAINING THE MEAT STREAK

clothes wash on in the washer

makes the old pipes conflicted

its shower roulette again -

waters hot then cold

           then gold

           then scald

           old fyodor 

          never had to 

        worry about that


~

my meat streak 

strongly suggests 

hibernation

& exhibits extreme confusion

& manifest limbic protest

at orders to the contrary

  

THEY FORGET WE THROW THIS SHIT AWAY & BONUS POPLINGS

theyre selling us 

sea plastic now

as ecological bangles

like they forgot 

we throw this shit away

~

trained & conditioned

we genuflect our credit

in 

the
holy heft of bargains

~

& my first hash

well i lay cliche

on a suburban lawn

star struck & immobile

with someone

i would never talk to again

BLACK MIRROR

i put the finishing touches 

on my diy claude mirror

i polish out the scratches
from the second-hand acrylic
with toothpaste & a cloth

i will watch the news in here

in its muted tonal shadows

if i watch at all

AIR TRAVEL OFF-CUT POPS

on a plane
it reminds me of being on a plane

& nothing else

~

i am between time
citizen of the sky
temporal & dulled

right documents / exported soul

~

with the white noise

& 

the death of expectation

well i become 

a cipher greeting dusk 

meat pondering the dawn

~

no movie any good
pills essential
nicotine in any other forms . . .

& sometimes snuff had to do

that went down well with the stewards

DONT THAT SOUND GRAND

kill the morning with art now

dont that sound grand ?

~

used to be sick 

with residue & loathing

&

a fermenting hangover

&

it called for more of the same

broken & glorious

broken WAS glorious

deliberate incapacity

was a political act

dont that sound grand ?

~

alcohol had an energy then
before its function crept
into the cold bone abyss

& 

everything else
EVERYTHING else
from the trees to the grey cocaine
were just chasers boy chasers

chasing me down 

the greased runway

of the cliche slide

I VIDDY EURO NOIR AGAIN

 

& i believe in knitwear 

& i believe in obsession

again 

they miss 

their kids 

school show

~

gerbil in the office drawer

stress for supper

righteously riding ripples

of  

old  

trauma

glasscom in their hands

OFF-CUT POPS 105

its a burden - we are beasts

               saddled with

god fallout

               death maintenance

vague sentience

      & the awful
        endless
         admin


~


last nights tv
echoes in my morning head

like manic barium pinball

PARKA & MITTENS

condensation between 

the double-glazing

& the window proper

every winter morning

is damp nostalgia

is a parka & strung mittens 

is a pink elephant bookmark

made from a used greeting card

~

& too a summer pencil gift

in blue & black

with a rounded end

for telephone dialling

as a sun-out flip side

THE DIRECTOR

i like how he 

       shows the big boeings

slow-dance 

       & hurry-sway

in the blue sky 

       on the silver screen


~


i like the measured dialogue

       its space & clarity

clear as the LA sunshine

       he porn-paints in a past sky

i like that he has

       at last learnt restraint

~

& i like the history 

       he twists

for the better 

       for revenge

& a feel good ending

HEAVY WEATHER ETHER

 

i file & post 

         i dump & report 

 

codex expositions 

         from my furious note-jags

as half-pop bones 

         in the heavy weather ether

 

         it 

         is 

         the 

         opposite 

         of 

         school

~

i remain still 

so very glad 

my schools out forever

that i shout 

L O S E R S 

from the car 

at the backpack kids 

walking 

their 

cornershop classroom

to & fro 

AN IMPOSSIBLE PONDER

older now
&
i look back
&
i wonder

if i am anywhere close
to how the younger me

had dreamed
or hoped
he would be

but i am too scared to look

& i remember now - so was he

OUTSIDE THE DEATH MACHINES GLOW

had a new sweatshirt
          bought for holiday wear

had a golden footballer
          sewn there on its brown tit

i can still almost smell it

          feel the freshness / the treat

      if  i  think  hard  enough

~

was a summer dusk walk 

           under seaside streetlights

197? &

     i  can  still  almost  live  it

if i relax enough 

           into the backward flux

           

outside the 

           death machines glow

NEW YEAR POPLINGS 1

baby breezes play
half-hearted
in the bare black trees

&
it doesnt matter
if theres a squirrel

or not


~

the elephant call
of the dustman truck
&
my hellacious knee

ennui / dread / doom scroll

new year

like your belt missed a loop

THE MARIJUANA SPIRITS PLAY

like any hunted thing
          i had dug a mind hole

  
& mesmerised by the 

          moving-picture rolling news

on the train stations 

          lcd widescreen exclamation

the police dogs 

          ringed behind me

sniffed for bombs

          & not weed

the marijuana spirits

           playing with me again

ROSY BACKFLASH

 

i brim brim brim 

    with rosy flashbacks

inside the denial 

    of an empires shadow

    

its gone gone gone 

    gone septic & more

too long untreated

    yes yes yes

~

    real roses 

      too mythological 

        to see

    in the white piano

    indian jewel dream