MORNING REPORT 104

& its morning

& already

Time is OFF

the ticking frontier 

the kinetic edge

the tippity-tip 

of the quantum spear 

us in its grey turbulence

play at catch-up

with the millwheel push

faking relevance 

with the construct

of reservations

in the sacred mulch

of our appointment books

MORNING REPORT 103

furious
at
whateverthefuck
on
a
beautiful morning

i swallow it / cough it / spit it

& count sets of five
in math zen
on my fingers

~

& i force-accept 

the yellow-white sun

its indifferent majesty

& unheard scream

its warming jazz

& coincident hug

up there 

in the Great Black Hole

MORNING REPORT 102

 

hard morning 

comes gently

in 

an 

off-white 

scalloped bar of light

swelling 

where the curtains fail the ceiling 

MORNING REPORT 101

waking up
is like

getting 

emailed 

an automated office pdf

& its slow to open

& it shows nothing new

but

is

dense

with

detail

that

overwhelms you

SECONDHAND MDMA

 

vampires must be

struggling these days

from our bad diets

of convenience junk

the antibiotic push

& tricyclic sleep

~

far cry from the rave days

& the easy pickings 

in the hydrated loved-up 

predawn chill & bliss

secondhand mdma

a good buzz 

to take to earth

FROM A SUPERMARKET CAFE

coffee in a cup

&

vernacular pains

researching mushrooms

&

their pros & cons again

funeral home

built consciously 

aloom on a black tarmac rise

ABOUT POST NOMINALS

'hey listen

 i got letters after my name too'

 i say to the room

 of doctors

 & scientists

 & chancers

'ten of them

 if you count
 initialised illnesses

 & i do'

BLATANT OBLIQUENESS

theres
a 

madness
in
the
look
of
things

~

the detail or not 

the blatant . . . obliqueness

& the space 

   just-so

out from the wall

ABOUT A CLASSIC POSE

well i dont
but want to

salute the smokers
lighting up

backs bent
cupped hands

heads down
outside b&m

& that first billow
steam train size

of chugged fumes
eddy tugged

spirals wraith like
on the grey-white wind

ABOUT PAINTERS OVERALLS

 

i

cremated

blue overalls

on consecrated ground

hoping

to find them 

ready & clean & waiting

on a reserved celestial hook

because
i
worry
about
how
naked heaven must be

if we dont even
have our bodies to wear

LIGHTER MOMENT / MOVIE SCENE

 

smiling & swaying

on the bench seat 

in the ambulance box

they both bloom 

& surprised by it

& sobered by it

they go with it

& let their lightness free

spinal board 

empty now 

at their feet

BODY HOGAKU DREAM

i
had

a
dream
about
my
anus
being like the opening
of a drawstring bag

puckered loose rim

& a meaty cord

like an umbilical

~

then

i 

am

at a sailing school
&

today is non-jamming hitches

ELECTRIC GHOSTS

with the proverbial

pork chops charring

on the iron 

of the metaphorical skillet

it all becomes clear
how 

it 

has 

all
dungeoned me & mazed me

with its turbulence

& electric ghosts

tho the doctor
has fancier words

TWELVE O CLOCK HIGH

time wraps around noon

like a racecar drifting

& i lean into it
into the tip of time

stereo up

windows down

twelve o clock high

~

& the sunlight

round beechcombe

flashes on the wrecks

in the park

that dared once reach 

for a kingdom

& that podium champagne

MORNING IN THE GARDEN HAIKU x 2

shadows on the fence

& one hundred shades of green

hot bowels waking

~

birds whistle & quip

the cat explores the clover

coffee stokes it all

PHONE BOX KUNG FU

brain drugs

on an aok day

when every pissy niche

of the medicine cage

is reusable canvas 

is a win for pharmaceuticals

& the stolid monolith way 

THE REGULAR SWOPPING

aging
is

the regular swopping out

of supermarket brands

on 

the 

same high street corner

where that cub hut was
& the glue deaths were

in your 

extremes
of youth

ROCK CIRCLE

bowie in a space suit

& a nine year old slash

visit

iggy
on
the
psych
ward

bagmen & fixers

kept out & left

skating at the seams

no star dazzle

to woo loose

the treatment rules

ABOUT A BEACH MORNING

grey haze burns off
morning slow

toy boat tries for fun
in a sandy rivulet

& the air it feels 

... unready

~

dressed for noon

mind on lunch

i wait there for the sync

in the evacuation of it

grey haze lifting

morning slow