STATE OF THE NATION

so i do what i can
when i can

i mean wrighting of course

between the fruit flies

& static veg of the day

thoughts like samples
over fuzzbox loops

big themselves up

with poached & grandiose titles

eg;

THE STATE OF THE NATION

jack & jill
went up the hill
for another litre of cider*
& jack fell down
& broke his crown
& the ambulance came three days after

* & ice & monster munch
  & ribena & vape juice

SAD MAD BONES

 

when its bad news headlines

that justify 

your extant mood

its

a 

weird & dysfunctional synergy 

that

sends

a

buzz of balance

thru

your

sad mad bones

SOFT ARCHAEOLOGY

i would go 

once again 

to the places

i have been 

to see what of me

i might find there

in the memory

of streets

& the minds

of hills

~

time has never known 

what its to do with me

& i am infested 

with its minutes

&

backwatered 

by the tides

of its great bowl

FEAR EVEN TO ONCE GLANCE

now

the
system orchestrated mindset

demands rolling explanations

for absence from the day machine

&

it

comes

out

as

a beg / a whine / an excuse

& pleas for understanding

when

i should
be unapologetically ill

a still turning 

burning windmill 

on the overlook hill

sacrificed to home experiments

& slo-mo soft-blazing 

a strange new trail

thru the heart of darkness 

where half the healthy fear 

to even once glance

CIRCLES OF ELLIPSES

 now automatic writing
that engine & saviour of expression

     well -

 stationary boatmen

 make circles of ellipses

 in the spring of surface tension

 with coffee scoop feet 

& if i must

fall deep

to hear myself

i will belay the kernmantle ropes

 & light it up 

 & read the shadows
 of the gumbo & diamonds down there

  & fetch them up

  to the suns

  light

  warmth

   & bleachy fade

   & bust like birth

the kitchen counter silence 

in this bad-quiet & still 

     headpan pool

BABY JOHANSEN ASKS #2

 

papa ?

yes son ?

you know carol on the corner 
sold their mobility scooter
to pay bills from thames water ?

that rhymes son ! 

you could be a poet when you grow up

but papa ?

yes son ?

how would that help ?

. . . well . . .

BABY JOHANSEN ASKS

papa ?

yes son ?

this labour party, 

theyre people too, 

right papa ?

yes son 

then why are they doing 

such unpeople things ?

. . . well son . . .

RAW LIKE BACON

i
bathed
in
the triumph
of a cat

exfoliated with sand from the sky

& raw like bacon like headlines
i took to the sleeping bed

& failed there
with
mountain tension

missing the streams of leigh 

PATTI SMITH FRAGPOP

to paraphrase patti smith -

i am so middle aged
so god damn middle aged

& i wish 

   someone 

      would send me

         energy

A DAY IN THE STRIFE (TO THE TUNE OF A DAY IN THE LIFE)

i

saw

the news today oh boy

the government

blew its legitimacy out

in a subsidised ulez car

& tho the news was rather sad

i just stood & stared

as another crowd of people 

were turned away

&

everyone was really sure

he was from the house of shills

SINCERELY NO REGARDS

to; politics

cc; disaster, capitalism, polycrisis

re; throwing the poor & sick again

    to the payday loanshark wolves 
     

to whom it may concern, 

we 'uneconomic units'

are sorry
you cant
see any worth
in our struggling lives

just know 

we too

can see 

even less

in yours

sincerely no regards whatsofuckingever 

NOSTALGIA GLANDS

outside the unkillable bookies

diehard smokers

brace for judgement

& breath their b&h

into my memory portal

& manic nostalgia glands

~

matchboxes &

cubic cellophane

under the thin light

of a streetlight

& night smoke

in the mist of rain

REALITY PROPS

gore on the green lawn

feathers on the garden walk

haikus in red dawn

~

his face is a mountain

the night is screaming

all conversations 

are clipped like wings

~

& the emptiness of right now

is punched out 

on the quiet carpet

of a weekday morning fume

GOOGLING PADLOCKS

on hand-me-down phones
&
library wifi

the sick google 

padlocks & foodbanks

in
the ruins
of
britains stable doors

THE BLISS OF THE WOMB

if you didnt arrive 

keening hard an existential wail

some strange masked woman
beat you till you did

now they expect autofill permission

& adherence 

to the fluid goalposts

mumbled 

out the sanitised egg

& 

to roll over roll over

& 

curl up like a hibernating boy

every unexplainable night

chinos neatly folded 

under crisp polo shirts

photo ID on a company lanyard

next to the rare earth phone

like the blood & terror

& shit & screaming

were never ever there

& you had forgotten

the bliss of the womb

THE FRANKENSTEIN REST OF IT

 

now most days

i cant believe

all this normal stuff 

is happening

you know - 

like eggs 

clever parrots  

& 

our regular surrender to the dark

let alone the frankenstein rest of it

VULCAN FIRES HIS FORGE

among other news

the world is heavy 

on cringe & deflection

ego & projection 

orchestrated diatribe

& racketeering from the egg

& big machines turn

& the moon is thirsty

& innocent mammals

hunt landmines 

in the ivf dirt

i am weak at the shit of it

now heres pinochet

with the weather

where you are

CLOSED THE BIG DOOR

they

wont

let

you

die

in the regular madness
of the chattel lands

where guilt is on tap
like a riot hose
& innocence is vestigial

& theyre proud
of the suicide nets they hung
below the factory windows

to catch & save

the lives they use

to beat down to a dumb nub

WAVE A FLAG

youngbloods
overtake me

of course they do
i am one mph

& i have no networking

& no push or pummel left

after the essential work
is bled out clotting

& filed on here

in its secret drabs 

~

if you find it

wave a flag

& i will wave 

your flag too

FIVE WHOLE MINUTES

gears
jump
grind

judder

i greet old scaffold
with chemists oil

& move smooth for five whole minutes

its a glimpse
of a dab

of the essence of life

of homunculus freedom
& the ordinary of others

CHALK & CHAIRS

there was no announcement
in any of the papers
& nothing on tv

no sirens
no shoutout
no sign

but i reckon / know / feel 

that all my teachers are gone now
dead / defeated / downsized
retired into the garden with crosswords

& they cant make me
reduce quadrilaterals
read steinbeck aloud
to anything ever again

in 

their 

compulsory fiefdoms

of chalk & chairs

ANIMAL UNBOTHERED

be easy
to drift thru the days
an extant mass

without urge
or maintenance

no deliveries or plans

no requests or pangs

no phone no flubs no leaks

silent
sitting
sustained

or walking pointing remembering
or walking for walking

like an animal unbothered
to prove it is here

UNFILED 2022 FIELD REPORTAGE 4

i warn the binmen
that i am building up
to jettison much ballast

its to maintain trim
i tell them
you know how heavy
the dead are
&
the screaming detail of things

BY APERTURES

the moonlight beam
a silver blaze
down the curtain gap

is broken

by nights 

black erasure

& arrives as a bullion bar

smelted by apertures
on the rumpled sheets & me

UNFILED 2022 FIELD REPORTAGE 3

the dove sways
with its weight

on the topmost curve
of the conifers branch

& the lily twice dead
is blooming today

~

you !  

flower !

you could have been anything

&

obvious & complete 

&

heavy headed in the wind swing

& 

on a bed of hard cold clay

you nod & nod & nod

like an old old man

at another VE day

UNFILED 2022 FIELD REPORTAGE 2

all the kipple questions

  & needy decisions

that niggle & naggle

  in drop-down check-box rain

& on precinct clipboards

  in day-pay anorak arms

rub like beach sand

  in your summer shoes

maybe i decide them all now ?
  like on a hospital food menu

then ride all the green lights
  easy & low & flying & freed

all the way to xanadu west
  out on el dorado bay

UNFILED 2022 FIELD REPORTAGE 1

dawn is a pensive onion

keening

its

yellow voodoo
around

my
sick horses

no-go stable hay

& today

is like homework 

on the morning bus

wet drawings

of

balls & dicks

&

arrows & hearts

finger smeared

on steamed-up window glass

A MORNING POP

i was there

now i am here

& i think a thought

simple as meat

& strange as stars

& so it goes

todays fog

& yesterdays clothes

hearing feelings
out the radio

COMFORT BRRRUM

the raw sunlight
on a worn teddys
threadbare belly

mocks the lightness
that was here
in the pause of evening

listening together
to the comfort brrrum
of the late night cars

CONSTRUCT OF A SPRING

dont know
what flavour
the fragrance is
in the hallways
plug in air freshener

its coming out all magical

in lunchtime yellow sunlight

& in navy blue dusk

under the row of our warm coats

but
its
making
me soft & nostalgic
for some 

composite construct 

of a spring

thats immediate

pushing perfect

& hanging there

over the trainers on the mat

for the wishful grabbing

MEMORY FRAGPOP

& all shades of yesterday

are like a motorway on-ramp

i
wear
as
a
backpack today

COMPATIBLE WITH THE DAY

thinking about school
the forest
the college canteen
& the road trip days

& i tour there
in the crucible of me

becoming slowly
more compatible
with the day

EYELID MOVIES, 3 FRAGPOPS

1.

wire-frame monsters
& greyscale faces
crowd the overfill
of night-closed eyes

2.

sandstorm orange  

&

translucent pink

like summer

in the womb

3.

it is a rioting haze

it is a 

pulsing 

rorschach 

demonstration

in throbbing overdrive

YELLOW BEANIE

 

so youre wearing 

your yellow beanie

& filming it cringe style

are you ?

& 'just for getting coffee' too

well fekking done

you cliche coquette humblebrag

now get out of my phone

i am trying to watch

the world end

DOGS PAWS

 

the bacteria
& fungus stuff
in the mould trap

looks like
the cosmati pavement

smudged

by

dogs

paws

DREAMFLUB & FRAGPOPS

i dreamed

we buy a red balloon together
& we let it go together

up & away & small 

into the sky & morning

of central parks
new bloom spring

~

well

always

i

am
looking for
a name for it

for whats lost
to reclaim it
whatever it was

FAIL TO RAGE, FRAGPOPS

our words 

tool meanings

been wrenched

agenda heavy
into blaming 

yellow rags

~

we owe it all

to topsoil 

& precipitation

& we have failed to rage
at the paving of it all

plastic

collecting

in our

bystander 

balls

REFLEX AIRBRUSH

 

today is stanchions

& 

its 

reflex 

airbrush 

whitewash 

unmakes

yesterdays

hysterical 

collage

indifferent as grey slate

TWENTY BROTHERS

'nothing used to say teenager

like ten menthols at dusk'

                   Anon

its a Thing to DO
all of the time
& its delicious
& it delivers

& leaves you wanting more

& theres always more 
& you can lean into that

thrilled & movie cool
& its killing you
but not today
& its cigarettes
& i miss them
sixteen quid !

DAWN TO FROG

now that moment

when dawn 

is about 

to breathe out

its soft promise

of warm earth

& easy time

well 

midmorning will mock it

& noon will flatten it

like a frog in the road