THE SEASONS SEGUES SEEM

the seasons segues seem
to grey-highlight
last-chance parts of me
with every turning leaf

like a gardener
seeing again
roses too close
to the road

its a reckless pruning
thats most hopeful of growth

CAGED BLUEBIRD TOO

look for the light

bukowski tells me

looming out the dark

its always there

~

people forget
its not all
beers & bars
with him

he had a caged bluebird too

ONE SMALL MUSHROOM FOR SUSTENANCE

he saw giants
crossing the valley
in a heavy mist

like all large things
they seemed
to move slowly

he had had
one small mushroom
for sustenance

but he didnt think it was that

cos his new friend

a little red fox
he saw them too

SUN OINTMENT & HOPS PERFUME, HOLIDAY MEMORY POP

breakfast early-as
for the still air
of a seaside town
slow to wake

like the sky 

is washed clean

i got a new cap 

to wear today

& i would get to climb rocks
climb rocks !
like the famous five

after guest house tea

sun ointment 

& hops perfume

meeting promenade 

beer garden air

MIDNIGHT LANES

lighters changed hands

  with the theft as a game

kebab dregs spilled

  on the taxi rank concrete

cigarette smoke hung 

  in the bus stop rain

king skins folded

  into a marlboro soft pack

flat bottle nectar

  helped bogart the pain

& delirium shone
  on us / in jeans / back then

a sticky eighth tucked 

  in a rothschild pocket

electric moons lighting 

  our midnight lanes

  

HONKING GAK FOR SOUL

high functioning sleepwalkers

compare digital genocides
in the meat time

of the clockless bodega run

the end is / was nigh

says the placard

cardboard & mouldy

a wall now

in the ripstop terraces

of rain dog row

echo chamber

black mirror

pop tarts

drive bot traffic

in an ego sheen

& suits are still suits

honking gak for soul

in compounds now

where a penthouse

used to do

& consultants

drill tech bods

on pocket army

loyalty credit

in the 

beanbag boardroom

sunset sim

TEA STEAM TOUCHING

i wish
miles davis
was here
to approve
of my
untutored
three finger
piano dirges

i can picture him
sat with biscuits

in my parents living room

tea steam touching

his smoked blue wraparounds

nodding sagely 

at my light touch

on the pedals

&

all the mistakes i play

between the notes i dont

FRAG POP X 2

if i might be
as pretentious
to say

i drew
a picture poem
in the garden
today

~

the goalies
thro their shapes

like theyre mapping
points of constellations
in a green sky

the ball 

an enemy moon

FINDINGS FILED IN THE STEAM OF A STATE 4 COFFEE CUP

like a kind of existential detective
i keep my hands
in my pockets
to not disturb
the evidence
of the world

only sometimes prodding
interesting detritus
with a click-click biro
to better further observe

CREATES AN ILLUSION

a boxfresh outfit
or as boxfresh as i get
helps clear out
the fog upstairs
& creates an illusion
of order & prep & pep

until the cat
gets hungry
& gets friendly
& rubs his shedding summer coat
all over my twill wale
& puma suede

no matter
i am only sitting in the morning chair
sunlit on the houseplants
& hair everywhere

WASNT EVEN A BIG FAN

i used to have 

this mongrel stereo set-up 

un-recreatable 

because i dont know what id done

two amps linked
thru the tape monitor
or by headphone jack
i dont know . . . 

five speakers
bi-wired or daisy chained
or both
i dont know . . .

& a tired turntable
with a brass imp 

blu-tacked
to the jumping arm

but it made the intro to 

Money For Nothing
sound A M A Z I N G
in the winter dawns

of way back when

we would play it

& play it again

& tweak up the volume

& sit in wonder
with the last of the happy dust

PHIPHTY

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tomorrow

natch

what !?

ITS A HEAVY SCENE

balls from the poundshop
on the brown grass lawn

are left where the last game ended

& bleached & dirty
they punch at
the low part
of my heart

~

its a heavy scene
like a bomb site snap

broken chair / lost doll
you know ?

so i wrote the following -

        balls
         in the garden
        but
         no child to play
        &
         i dont want children
        but
         i am sad anyway

         balls

TO PARAPHRASE REAGAN

in a world

i find
impossible

to second guess

i find
its reassuring
to be 

always 

12 months older
when 

another year 

has gone by

~

all thats sure in life
is income enhancement
negative patient outcome
& youth expansion

to paraphrase reagan

ARRIVE WHEN I COFFEE

the acapella singer
does a private gig
in my morning head
to the fridge ping
& the car ignitions

~

dont worry about it, just write

said burroughs

well it went ok for him

with his good fuel

& shoe-money buffer

~

& the backing vocals
arrive when i coffee

the enunciation not a priority

& deliciously always 

a half beat late