NOT A VIVID PICTURE

   
      sometimes 

      for a 

      wobbled

      moment 

i  am  outside  of  me

i am separate & undone

    

like i nudge-shoved me 

      

      out 

        my

         own 

          way

~

      

& my meat is an echo

      tailing me

      like a cop

      

      like a jumping stylus

      like buyers remorse

& i am elmos fire . . .

an essay on a toetag . . .

        

      it is not 

    a vivid picture

       

       

ASK THE MUSK, THREE HAIKU POPS

a is still for apple

in the locked groove loop around

lost - you ask the musk


~


highway maintenance

red jackets & a pale sun

meat puppets dancing


~


the towers of song

first stop & last port

fragrance curates memory

THREE HAIKU POPLINGS

the burning men

passed out waiting on the rain

say their robert paulsons

~

tv eats the time

the garden gives you back

patio & coffee


~


trying to art is all

pennies on the railway track

misfires of the soul

I GREW UP IN THE UK VOL 2

i grew up in the uk
water out a standpipe
& the ladybird storm

& the national anthem broadcast
every evening at closedown

i grew up in the uk
windsor weddings on tv

their cartel crockery
ubiquitous & mandatory


~


i grew up in the uk
rolf harris all over tv

drawing cartoon kangeroos
making all the kids happy

remember he sang two little boys
on stage at glastonbury ?


~

& we had cod wars back then
& an oil crisis
that made for thin elvis vinyl

now cod wars are only pending
theres another oil crisis
& elvis vinyl is now fat as the king

THREE HAIKU POPTARTS

1/3  NEIGHBOURHOOD WATCHING


hes front yard gassing

his brand new white slacks too big

humid english sun




2/3  CALLING THE DOCTOR


fourteenth in phone queue

get cut off at number one

god awful muzak




3/3  A CAN I CANT


cant write / then can write

fickle sick head like weather

did you kick my chi ?

I GREW UP IN THE UK VOL 1

i grew up in the uk
jimmy saville on tv

granting kids wishes
making kids happy

i grew up in the uk
windsor cartel street party
1977 silver jubilee


~


i live in the uk
jimmy saville still on tv

no ones happy now
everyone is sorry

i live in the uk
windsor cartel street party
2022 platinum jubilee


~


& the dog shit back then
was white & dry on the bicycle pavement

its brown now
& neatly bagged up in the park path trees

THE T SHIRT CHRONICLES VOL 2

his t shirt said

are the clouds lower
or is just me ?

he was 6' 6" & on a hill

but
i think
that was
coincidentally

~

'defcon ?' he asked

his face to the light
& arse to the wind

~

'its all tagnuts in the breeze'

i told him
totting up the rubicons

'just roadkill winnits
in the hatchback grill'

HYPNAGOG 5

well its like microdosing
some other strange electric

& theres novels there

in the hypnagog

someones reading them to me

but
theyre
not
for lending or borrowing be

THE T SHIRT CHRONICLES VOL 1

any happiness
is just drier than the sea

his tshirt said

in military stencil font

an oil slick rainbow logo
over the left tit pockets
blue embroidered waves

~

'a full belly & the right pills
wont stop them coming
when they come for me'

he said  

nostrils flared

like an animal 

~

he was queueing
at the std clinic

& low over his manson lamps

he wore a che beret just so

thick leather portfolio
in a latex gloved hand

CRAMP OF YOUR CLAWS

 

you reach an age &

your world tumbles apart around
your gig-deaf ears

todays eulogies
old dust so soon

in the cramp of

your arthritis claws

~

&

all the dentists look like children

&

all the police look like children

&

all the parents look like children

&

all the children lay claim

just by e x i s t i n g

to a world

i

 am

   not

      done

          with 

              no

WEDNESDAY WEDNESDAY

the workmen wear burnt orange hard hats

& black pirate beards

they force a hole into the patchwork street

with a mobile mechanised hydraulic drill

they put up red plastic fences

gone pink from the sun

they lay a nonslip yellow slab

bordered with bevelled black

over the space in the world

they are gone when i have my lunch sandwich

but back before my nap is properly underway

they returned with a proteous hot box 

its yellow streaked black with rust

they have wheelbarrows on the citroen flatbed 

& big thick rubber tubes coiled in columns

i hear them talk
i hear them phone
i see one gesturing in the truck cab

their engine ticks over over over

calm before afternoon bedlam

FORCED ENTRY

 

you are wired into the machine
& its acid dance freak show

forced entry
one exit

easter eggs aplenty
among the bones & blooms

THEY BASE THEMSELVES IN BERN NOW

if the past is another country

like they say

then i am getting visas
from the Paradox Board

~

want one ?

fifteen percent off
if we fill a coach

bitcoin only

wifi not guaranteed

THE SMALL TOWN FALL DOWN

the 2 AM rivet moon
glows out the indigo
of a dark-wash denim sky

& i make grass angels
in the early dew

on the rugby field
of my old school

friends stealing bikes
in the side street gloom

earths girth pressing
on my genuflecting back

WE EAT BILLIONAIRES KARMA

'they dodge karma like its tax;

 they dodge karma because they dodge tax'

                                     Anon

what they send around
comes down down around
the
lowest
makeshift
trash shack
struggle-pup 

kennel trough

where theres too much sun on the mountains

&

mutant fleas unkillable

on all the limping dogs

LIKE ONLY ONCE

dont
ever think you have been forgotten
in
the grey exchange of memory trade
because
theres people out there
who
wake up remembering the faces
&
the times & the names
&
the places & the games
they
only maybe met or saw or heard

like only once before

DOOM-SCROLLED OUT OF THE SANDPIT

the small school children
answer 'present' truthfully

like no adult ever could

danger warnings sellotaped
on the roaring winter radiators


~


grown-ups 

doom-scrolled

themselves
out of the sandpit

the moment is code to them

reserved for musicians

& the waiting-room sick