THE ANYWAY FILES

i would be climbing the damn walls

in these helpdesk chatbot days

of recreational consumption

& blue-grey smiling vans

if i could climb anything at all

~

anyways these poems here 

are proof of life

& the sacred twofer

of discipline & attempt

~

& when all the children of the revolution

ask me what i did while it all fell apart

i can say

well kids 

i wrote it down

or kinda tried to

knee deep in gadgets

& plastic & pills

lou reed on the player

SHOES ON THE DANUBE BANK

that
riverside
row
of

everyones
shoes

theyre not emptied because of rapture

TOUR or SHOW YOUR WORKING OUT

 

i walk thru the past

walk ? drift maybe - float ?

attend . . . nah

or visit ? yes visit

no - tour ! 

~

in the concrete downtime

of sickness & england

i tour thru the past 

top down / beta band on

even tho

i reckon

i found all there is 

for me to find there
but you never can know

it has surprised me before

COMPASSIONS IN THE BIN BAG

 

with their outside barks

  & their indoor drool

the abandoned 

  get ignited & hysterical 

  about ogres

the monied make up

  from fear yet again

~

call it what it is

a narrowboat conversation

in a deadwater canal 

stick a fork in it

turn it over

its done

ON NIGHTWATCH

 

& so bored

so criminally bored

overmedicated & undershone

& wondering if 

we do enough

for the dead

KITCHEN SONG Nos 3 & 4

KITCHEN SONG No 3

i pause in the kitchen
like we all pause in the kitchen
like thats what a kitchen is for

to stand between time

buffering

with the cups & the cooker
& the cats red toadstool bowl



KITCHEN SONG No 4

sunglasses & a sweet potato
on the kitchen table

look like 

a displaced memorial 

to me

THIS IS NOT A POEM

i have had a scene looping 

in my mind for a year

words are not the appropriate 

medium for its expression

what did seem appropriate tho

was to start drawing it 

with my eyes shut 

this facilitated its channelling

if youll excuse such terms 

after opening my eyes 

i inked in the bits that worked

& coloured it in pencil 

i think its finished

it probably is finished

title tbd

  

NEW GHOSTS

too much 

kool aid about

&

too many 

different coloured pills

in

this 

godmaxxing griftosphere

to me it all looks like

2 AM kebabs for the mind

im going to stick 

with coffee & codeine

& sicknote zen 

i need that & more

much much more

if im to cope with

the new ghosts

fools done made

to run the everyday machines

3 x GARDEN SNACKLINGS

the fire pit 

is brimming with 

summer trimmings & 

honey & rust

& bramble thorns

~

i see the sky
in the samsung black

& a bird on a tv wire

~

like it always does

the grass has recovered

fat & chartreuse 
rangy & butterscotch

& the robin singing

& CORACLES & COCA COLA CAPS & CRAB & KRAKEN & COD

up in the nature 

of the landfill reserve

the thames only seems 

a lofted fingertip away

& i think about
how the water is 

touching ALL the beaches 

crumbling cliffs & seas*

i stand in landlubbed awe

& sane in my fear 

as i feel 

the unbelievable mass of water 

  WATER 

pull me like a moon

* see title

3 x SIDE ORDERS

GARDEN

the trees grow
where they grow

a spades there



WOBBLEDAGGER

cry hubris 

HUBRIS

& release

the robot dogs of war

VONNEGUT

in the interview

in my head

i am saying

my favourite vonnegut

is the last one i read

or bluebeard

THANKS A LOT

i manically talk to
a news station host

about the wildwest bots
ramjamming our theoretical freedom
& lack of investigation
into the ditto same
& then / why not
about call-in shows themselves

but its all in my head tho
& its feels like three hours passed

& i am missing the essential rest

my post-lunch nap is meant for

thank mad cannabis
thanks a lot

'ITS 2026 PEOPLE...'

announcing the year
as a reason 

sanity should prevail

is kinda like

declaring dinner time

to the fridge

or telling 

the dog

its may

ABSOLUTE CAGE

i
am
surprised
we

all
dont
wake
up
screaming

at the absolute cage of it

SPIRAL OF TAPAS

in the maelstrom
of the earths

to & fro crapshoot of death & nonsense

             & chocolate box hillsides

& the gulf
of shrinking heroes

rock n roll has left

i buffer myself
with thoughts
of strong cheese

in the regular bliss we made

behind migraine walls

FRET-JAG DUH

fret-jagging about endtimes

& everything to forever lose

i purposefully patronise waterstones

between a glut of used electronics

& the muted hues of west ham merch

empty of customers

 duh

i inhale the paper air

the unbent luxury gloss of spines

well this might not be 

a bad place 

to hole up

when the sewage 

hits the turbine

& all the hills shed their trees

MORNING SONG

again i check
the morning news
for tactical nukes 
& planet fall
or for triffids

& celestial intervention

& not finding anything

new there since midnight

i take my pills
& drink my coffee
sat at the easel

& start to try 

to make the canvas

& the summer clouds

i had painted there 

look less bloody awful

while theres still air

& a sun to see

HOT WASHED MADRAS & A CAFE HAY(NA)KU

we are joule sacs

dissembling soft scaffolds

& the wires 

& the pipes

in the sunsets rerun

& the perjury of night

~

i 

order coffee

& browse sandwiches

in 

a delicious 

soup of accents

FRIEND SONG WITH PARENTHESES

inside me
is a multiheaded megafriend

made up of all of you

 (in your levis / your gyspy core
  & your norm-chic

  your saturated black / the hat envy

  & toytown frills)

& you all talk to me still

 (questions edged with giggles

  & the lume of a plaintive moon)

no matter
how far
you think
you have
all gone

I CHANGED THE WORLD TODAY

so i changed the world today !

in 

   a 

     literal 

             sense 

                   only 

                        tho

when i moved
three garden pebbles
from their happenstance

into
a
small
pointless
cairn

by the animals 

fresh water bowl

&

our 

cinnamon bun afternoon 

easy crossword chairs