COBWEB ELBOWS

i worry
that memories
may degrade
with each needy use

like a favourite jumper

already skeined thin

at its cobweb elbows

& i worry i dont 

husband them enough

like maybe

i should be

~

but still

the fallen garden apples

gone sweet with rot 

& all the flies there

conjure crystal 

childhood moments

of paddington ringer t's

& moccasin slippers

gone slippy & shiny underneath

& still 

the supermarket shower gel

of jungle & sport & sage 

mirrors those mornings long ago

when things

were different

enough to count

GONE FOR A BURTON

when
inspiration & flow
have gone for a burton
&
i feel like
i only know

Three  Whole  Words

well 

its time for grunt work

time to copy & paste

out the archives dust

& make a new thing

without pressure

from play

or to sit

just sit & sit & sit

still as water stone

in the drift of the world

HOT CIRCLE

data scraping
its 

own 

bots 

life hacks

& 

inflammatory blue tick screeds

the server farms

on 

the 

edge of town

work 

up

a 

raging thirst

that 

leaves

the 

people panicking 

for 

bottled Highland Spring

manipulated & misinformed

&

saturated 

with 

pointless choice

IT SHOULD BE IN A MUSEUM

he goes down the steps

& she rushes to follow
& he stops on the steps
& it catches her out
& she goes back up the steps

as he starts down again

catching her out again

& they both stop 

& she lifts his hat brim
& he is preoccupied

& she projects fun

& he acquiesces 
& with his hands 

still in his pockets

he sticks out an elbow
for her to loop her arm inside

& together & in tune

for now at least at last 

they go for a drink

in washington dc 1936

shia lebouf 

nine months away

POLO MINT HOLE

in the gloam of undelivered winter

i pin mad hope
on the accruing spring lands

it is impossible pressure
i know
for only a season to shoulder

but the emptied airs all dead

& in need of natures basting

& the hope is in the hope of it

like a polo mint hole

if the hope is anywhere

AGOG AT THE HIGHWAY

look the febrile universe
in its indifferent & piebald eye

like the ants we are

agog at the highways

pandemonium & alchemy 

& carry on carry on 

toiling in the cordovan soil 

we have worked

& poisoned

& paved 

smiling in the mad grace
we demanded of it

& 

weeping of it

the same

ACCELERATED ELECTRIC HEAD

within minutes
no seconds
of waking

i have diagnosed myself 

with 7 rare disorders
& held the floor at 3 wakes

fought a policeman
& stopped a war

killed a murderer

& snubbed a king

all in my accelerated electric head

& it dies down some with coffee

~

like things on a microscope slide

oily shimmering rainbows
strobe in my pov margins

& a chad of light is displaced

by a black hole punched 

into the centre pane

& everything & anything
i do / manage / achieve

this morning

this afternoon

all week

is herculean heroism
in my viddy newsflash

OLD ELECTRIC STOVE

sometimes when i sleep
my dead grandma is there
& she wants a cup of tea is all

& shes already sat comfortably

& when i wake sometimes
i smell the cooking
how she would do it

no not the cooking

but the hot metal
of the old electric stove
on for hours & hours & hours
on a sunday long ago

GUNS BEFORE BREAKFAST

the things i see
before breakfast

online on social apps
on my phone in my hand

snuff & lies

& grace between bile

& a little girl

eight or nine or ten
firing two pistols 

at the same time

two fingers needed 

on each trigger
& she empties one 

before the other
& she discards it 

with a glance
like a kindergarten john wick
calm concentration on her face

& she really is doing it well
& who is behind the camera ?

CATCH THEM WONT YOU ?

those shapes there
over the treetops
that jangle & jag

catch them wont you ?

& 

filter them pithy

that 

i might understand

BING BONG

bing bong

this is your captain speaking
welcome aboard the evolution express

all passengers please be aware
you should have your own flame to carry
however small & private

in whatever form it takes

otherwise please change here
where industrialised nostalgia

& the platitude fountains

will take care of your needs

please stand clear of the doors

bing bong

FOR THE SIMPLIFIED VIEW

when i wake up sometimes
its like i am a husk

a nothing who knows nothing
empty / nowhere / nada

& then its like
i arrive into myself
like i am 

a pdf 

to open

& as i fill up 

i do buffer some

& i search my meat browser
for the button to click on

for the simplified view

PICK A REASON THE STORY DEMANDS

i am playing
catch up
after my bodys decisions

we all are

free will
is the justifying of it
we pick a reason
i pick a reason
that the story demands

i try to watch
to second guess
my limbic subconscious

but it leaves me
sitting
sitting
on a garden chair

wind evacuating any residual self
finger digging around up my nose

ANGER LIKE A CHEAP MATCHSTICK

the poet was furious
with the publisher
over a missing full stop *

oh to own such fury
such certainty & fight

to release like hounds

 

well my anger eats itself

like the sulphur & filler

in a cheap matchstick head

a blink of flare

then a push of smoke

& moisture on the run

like the frustration tears

of a lost little boy

 * the poem was a single full stop

   at the bottom of an empty page

   by Vsevolod Nekrasov

DO YOU THO ?

i give afternoon tv

all the progress

the mornings fresh air 

gave me

it fills the spaces
i cant look at

with stories 

i wont believe

& while i grant it
credit & thanks

i know its a tool box
& never a church

CARDBOARD MONOLITHS & ORIGAMI FRUIT

its low-hanging 

easy-picking

origami fruit

&

cardboard monoliths

from the motherboard

to the sea

cant move out there

cant think out there

for strawmen pop-ups 

& paper tigers prowl

in a back-foot smokescreen

& a crusaders pose

soon 

wont 

fit 

graphene

tween 

the  

clog of it all

OBSOLESCENCE FURY

its wednesday
or thursday
or friday
or whatever

& tho acid blemished 

in the threadbare patches

with pink shapes of sun
morning is a folded stack
of over-washed towels
gone no colour at all

& up in the tv skies
bent wires tremble
with obsolescence fury
in the wifi wind

& the sentinel shingles

& the bitten pointing

who have seen it all