OILLESS - TUESDAY POPS

1.

i woke up

& most of it all
was a dream

&
i
cancelled
all
my
plans

that werent bars

deep in 
dusks hug



2. 


like
an
unbaked
potato

sitting on a chair

one lego
two lego

got no hair



3. 


thru
the
keyholes

theres sparse
electric sparks

keyhole glimpses
all
i
got  

big picture
too vast

survival puts blinkers on
&
pulls shut the shutters




4.

if
only
we
were
only monkeys

with our genius grip
ethically tempered

oilless
with eyes that see

we
would
know
the dolphins by now

& 
all
the 
whale kings

from wwf.panda.org

SKUNK KAPOW

the

unremarkable tourist / townie

waterside

bar

was hilarious

till dusk

then-

became

doom heavy

frontier scene

i heard bells

morricone bells

tolling

for thee and for thy

and for cheyenne

~

morricone bells

bunker down

in boat cabin

now

i cried

demanding

we leave

drink up

eyes down

~

boat cabin-

we played the floyd of the day

tigers

ears

sprouted

from

unhacked indie curls

all

our

jeans

dancing

with

dense blue cartoons

~

endless

restless

forever

movement

in

stonewash

weave

i

only

needed

half an eye

from theredlist.com

IN HAMMERSMITH YEARS AGO

the
guy
in
the
row
behind 
us 
was alone & drunk
&
kept up shouting

hurricane bob
do hurricane

acting like he was 
the only proper fan

his row cleared out
&
dylan
left
the
stage
for
a
long double bass solo

that stopped the arsehole
kicking the backs of the seats in front

&
sent
him
off
to

the

bar

he never came back

bob came back

&
tho
we struggled to recognise the songs
he
never
did
do
hurricane

from rollingstone.com

LONDON MEMORIES (AN APRON OF FREEMASONS)

pm isnt it
leicester square 

a raggedy glamorous maybe rentboy
links my arm talking about company
his eyes alight with a morning hit

i rescue my arm dont i
telling myself
he thinks i am a rock star

its the sunglasses isnt it
people always look
at sunglasses without the sun

leicester square
movie remake why hollywood why
still we are curious

red guide ropes
i am trapped 
in red guide ropes 
drunk 
laughing 
a fool arent i

i am only looking for dark
and a story to escape into
inside we could be anywhere

movie is full of mojitos
bad dialogue  
flash cars
and after i am needing another drink bad
my mind dried
like a forgotten potted plant 

so then wooden pubs isnt it 
old as the river
ornate ceilings like art
and i am timeless
and i am strong
and i am accelerated
and i am refueled 
and i speak of my love of wooden pubs 

( wood
  its good
  it feels
  like it should )

so shoot pool isnt it
smoke hangs like mountain cloud 
no air in here
no air moving anyway
everything is on the corner of stagnation
sweat in circles under my arms
short sleeve bad check crinkle shirt
so i hold scotch ice to my forehead dont i

so then we drink our way east
pictures on paper money
as made up as anything

see bob fossil order a beer
no no no not him
who is it who is that
its lucien sanchez 
and hes got an ale

see freemasons leave their hq
silent fat suited secret phalanx
leak out their huge stone monster 
one city block long 
they come in this bar dont they
single file like a field trip
and they go up the backstairs
no eyes on anyone

then we are over the road arent we
laughing at their ornate aprons
arcane books
solid mystery
in their exclusive freemason shop window

and all the pubs 
are all weirdly empty
just us isnt it
and disinterested barmen
nuts for dinner  
and all the streets 
are all weirdly empty
just street cleaning carts
driven buzzing electric
by hi-vis immigrants
city blending and city mundane 
its some side passage
secret london isnt it
painted windows and wedged open doors
record shops that never open

i leave my fingerprints 
on all the brass poles
i leave my dna 
in all the cold back room pissers

and i wonder if we have found heaven

or at least a place outside politics

a drinking bubble isnt it
long may it last
amen

from freemasonrytoday.com

TOO MUCH 3

too much

were the too many shadows cast too long

of the too many long cool drinks

in the too late soft hotel bars

where a quiet barman in a too tight tie

always said sir to my bleary smudge face

and

too many too bright dawn slides home

where 

too many birds sang too loud too many words

i

always

understood

all too much

so 

now

i

scribble my literal anus in too small hiccups

too tired to write anything too long

and

carefully

nurse

my

back brain and its dim fluke glow

catching its too dull diamond flashes 

on 

too yellow post-its 

that curl and collect too much fluff and ash and dust

their ideas fading slow in too little sun

waiting too long

for

me

from psds

ARSE END OF NOTTINGHAM 199?

the bar is all black paint bricked up windows low ceilings/visiting a friend working a long bar shift/i hunch on a choice bar stool/watch myself sink iced cider in the dirty  mirror/ok so its starts well enough/place fills up with students for happy hour and the big match/drinking out cheap pitchers and smoke superkings from ten packs out the machine by the toilets/square cellophane torn on the table in ale puddles/my friend well she can only slip me a freebie or two/tequila cos no one ever orders it/gold jose/neat and warm/there are goals on the new plasma and cheers and groans/i go to piss and coming back i find a huge guy on my stool/dreads to his back pockets bulging with whatever/think oh well but he gets up/saving it for you dude he rumbles/well my friend got some pull here/i nod/take up the drinks/cold glass and a drinking crowd - i am a cipher/the crowd changes/students drain out after shyly scoring tiny weed bags from yardies/saying man too much/way too much/man/well the yardies they filled up one dark side of the place like ghosts/bunkered in booths in army fatigues/low growls/mean laughter bounces harsh off the cement walls/i sink the drinks/cold glass to my kissing lips/mumble to strangers/visiting her there i say/you know her? yeah - i am a marked cipher/my friend well shes busy shes blonde shes popular shes respected/i go and throw up deliberately/splashing booze out on the ceramic void/making room/well time marches invisible/i decide to eat nuts/well i end up on a table of smoking women/heels and leather/wide poured skin/red nails/big handbags on laps/their phones ring/they wobble out the door/they disappear/theyre back in half an hour or so/not long i'm not sure but not long/they return with fistfuls of notes/buy rounds for the table/well i'm in on a few rounds/some jose shots i dump in the cider/and when i go throw up again my chair is saved with a huge handbag for me/i  try to buy a round/i think/i am sure i tried to buy a round/i'm told no dearie/want some fun dearie? i'm back at the bar/well i'm holding it together for twelve hours now/place almost empty/echoes/some lights on like god found us/well my friend is chatting to the owner/we're waiting on a cab i'm told/you ok i'm asked? i'm head down on the bar/hear her say to the boss hes ok honest/me head down on the bar/well wheres the cab? a straggler in denim/garrulous wide boy talk/tries to shift a can of tennets super for eight quid/i shake my head into his speil/well we got out into the predawn air of pitch black and sad fog/blurred  streetlights like drunk angels lipstick smeared form kissing the lords arse . . . slide across the back seat of some cab/well my face is on the rough fabric of a thousand areses/my friend talking with the driver/endless and seamless global small talk/driver well the driver has a high pitched german voice/just like some cliche nazi from some cliche film/well i'm grinning and thinking war criminal/well when we're dropped off and paid up and he's driven off i shout warcriminalnazi into the street/well my friend is shocked/that voice i'm saying/that voice! hahahaha/my friend she says it was a woman from rotterdam would i please not shout nazi out in her street at dawn/well i have a rolling rock in front of the tv/she has supermarket spaghetti out a tin on toast/i go sleep in the spare room/on the floor on old sofa cushions surrounded by bikes and hoovers and steps and local papers