I DONT KNOW WHAT IM DOING, A DISCUSSION POP

it has a myriad 

of meanings

& intentions

but we all say it -

i dont know what im doing

its depreciating 

its disingenuous
its abdicating responsibility
its an embarrassment buffer

its a humble brag

its an admission of the disconnect

its panic & a call for help

but too i say it to myself 

in a very literal & true sense
acknowledging the channelling 

& duality of creativity

altho an essential caveat 

is appropriate -

when it is finished
i know what i have done

whether i want / deserve / own 

the credit or not

is a problem for another day

  

NO & WTF

tea break

tennish
hospital
round the table
steaming mugs
crossword book open
radio two on

& rose pipes up
says
remember when you were at school
& theyd have a day
when theyd put electrodes on your head
& put on those weird films
before doing a quiz ?

no
we say
absolutely not at all

wtf ?

FEW CHOSEN WORDS

dont complain
&
dont explain

react as water reacts
as much & no more
than physics decides

thatll keep the mob guessing
& add power
to your few chosen words

as the pixel crowd

turns blue

in kneejerk

meat fart

expression

ON THE ROAD TO HOSPITAL

the red & amber lights
on the hospital lane
where
copper council brick
meets
death row bronze

blend & mate

their burnt palette 
like a painting
like a thought

not captured or frozen

only slowed

EMPTY AS A TYRE IS EMPTY

theres a moment after we wake

a glimpse out of time
empty as a tyre is empty

before we remember It All

& the day
never does
recover

from this absence 

we had 

no chance

to prod

NO BELL TO EVER RING

to be ill
all the time

an everyday sicknote

well its like 

being sent to the corner
to stare at the wall

no chair allowed

the world alive

behind you

SOUVENIR RAM & NASCENT LDR

it takes so long

so far round the sun

to realise the old life is gone

~

& you tell its stories
in the lang syne forest
where memories camp

with souvenir RAM
in the sage shadow
of the khaki mist

~

& acceptance - 

well it feels traitorous  

like trading 

a last day with an old dog

in the park with his ball

for a nascent LDR

with the outer rim

ONE MISSED FEED

the government talk about
the duty of the sick to work

casting first stones

out their teflon towers

& it makes me feel
like a panda

judged & monitored
& falling off logs

one missed feed
from extinction

RETIRED GODS, A MOON WALLPAPER POP

 on the paved & indentured
    forest floors
         of 

    steel & glass
        we 

    fight ourselves

   to death & back

    with devil toys

   from the fire sale
         of 

      retired gods

    eager to boost

     their 

  diminishing  

    pension

        in their

      knee rug

        gin cafe

       twilight days

OF GREYEST JURISDICTION

talking to myself
in my head at night
i stumble & lose 

every second word

the plans & the ideas

cool & crazy & bullshit

building there of mist 

bolt & dash & career 

away on sudden motorcycles
into

the
brain haze vanishing points 

of greyest jurisdiction

where the universal minds

sorting pools & pulleys & levers

select a more functional chancer 

to try on for size

MIXED MEDS & PHILIP K DICK

it was a night of dreams

identity drama
in 

the 

dull theft of night

i blame mixed meds
&
the 

philip k dick stories

that i absorb
more thru osmosis
than normal reading

he would approve

~

dreamed i was
squat & stocky
in boxy work clothes
of dusty prison blue
with a flat pan of face
all underground pale
in the morning mirror
eyes there 

the colour of sickly chocolate
taking it all in again

resigned & resilient

a short black fringe

straight & clumped & default
with solid white roots
showing underneath
when the train wind blew
& the black hair rose

like a rigid wing
on the commuter platform
among many heavy stares

SCENE

 

with the 

opposite heel
he knocked 

a waffle
of bloody snow
off the bottom 

of his boot
in the 

farmhouse bedroom

the grip of meth 

weakening
& letting in the chill
of clothes 

wet from the river

as he packed bags

for the young sisters 

going away

HOPE ON ICE

the sadness

is under the ice

i keep the hope on

as i play 

wait & see

in the mad dancing shadow

of the proverbial pan

DOG BARKS IN A SILENT NEIGHBOURHOOD

the hoot of a train horn

funnelled down the grass banks

of litter & scrub & stubs 
&
the movie dialogue 

snappy & truncated 

by channel hoping hope

&
the dog that barks

in a silent neighbourhood

of a teenage sunday

&

the rave whistles 

shrill & bright

on the smoky festival wind

&

the cold hatchback motors 

turning over in coughs

on a frosty workaday dawn

remind me 

of the ambient album
found-sound collages

of the 90s

as opposed to

it working
the other way around

ANDROID TBD (A MOON WALLPAPER POP)

the straw man army

moved to basket

for 

same day delivery

is

shipped off-the-peg ready

at black friday prices

to 

pre-empt the peaceniks first cry

frequently bought together -

NoChat

the debate shutdown

flash card app

ios only

android tbd

LUNCH CANNOT SWALLOW

stories
in
the
bones
worth
medals
tell themselves
in the cracks & lumps
of bad heals

& my muscles call for fuel
across the limbic telegraph

joints heavy
like lead
like gravity

in the bubblegum stretch
of a masticated morning
lunch cannot swallow