OFFCUT POSEY No 9

now today

dont make me

use my brain

it is a deserted breakroom

i

slowly

back

out

of

THIS IS YOUR LIFE

the past posts pics
of places & people

every panopticon dawn

straight into my brains rusted pan

just like somebody dropped

that red tv show scrapbook

& it lays open on the floor

by my white plastic dosettes

~

then i am compelled

to always run thru
what i can remember

of the person

or the place

there exposed

like i got 

an hud readout
on my cyborg retina

& always i think

i have detailed files

like arnie said 

in that sequel

HELPED TREMENDOUSLY

 

i
never

expected

black & white photographs
of british mobile homes

to be so

medically

calming

& they helped 

t r e m e n d o u s l y

when my brain 

was screaming

out of gear 

SEASONAL OLFACTION EVOCATION

out 

of 

the
springwinters
struggling egg
comes muggy june

& 

again my nose tells 

my brain all about

the sigh of morning weed
on the bacon roll breeze

& the pagan steampunk

costume raffle
of a barter town night

IN THE SKYS GREAT BOWL

the cats rolling onto his back
legs hanging / eyes watching

showing the trap of claws & teeth

baited by thick soft belly fur

of course i fall for it

~

its midnight & the lawn is wet

stars out in the skys great bowl

& the solar storms flares  

show up as nothing here

but i stay awhile / hoping 

they might / even invisible

be rewiring my brain

BRAIDED HOGAKU

& i fight there
in the basement of it

in light gone weird 

& details too big

with blank posey thin

but listen 

i will braid it 

for strength

CREASED LIKE A BRAIN

sometimes its ok

& the tv
dovetails into my mind
with near cnc precision

from worlds away 

to my time here

~

when mostly 

it only puttys up the gap

badly & shoddily 

& without due care

like i did

behind the radiator

in the hallway

2007

wall all creased like a brain

OF GREYEST JURISDICTION

talking to myself
in my head at night
i stumble & lose 

every second word

the plans & the ideas

cool & crazy & bullshit

building there of mist 

bolt & dash & career 

away on sudden motorcycles
into

the
brain haze vanishing points 

of greyest jurisdiction

where the universal minds

sorting pools & pulleys & levers

select a more functional chancer 

to try on for size

THIS IS WHY THERE ARE SEDATIVES

& my brain
is thinking 

about my brain
with my brain

like a ladder trying
to climb itself

a mirror turning its back 

in a mad effort to see

LEADEN MY BELLY

the accelerator stream
out the hand-glass
&
the pox-vox-pops 

out the circus vents

leaden my belly
& take the light

out my dreamed mountain view

~

brain rot

bring it

reality got bent

GLOWING DULL ELECTRIC

 

theres Things

here / there / everywhere

in the brain space & out

Too   

      Sad   

            For   

                  Touching

~

they glow dull & electric 

inside the medicine scaffold 

captive & museum'd

on 

the 

laterbases

forgotten tab

photo - Scaffold Fudge from the Dagenham Archive

APOLOGIES BUT

 

my

brain

is slo-mo

&

my

wallet

slim-jim

but hold your horses you authors

i

shall

read

you yet

from changingworld.com

SQUEEZE SADNESS, BRAZIL REDUX

& i AM 
that white knight

battling THEM romantic

in 
such 
clapham sadness

my brain pleading

& over ginned

losing another game

of 
garage chess again

hes done 
(they think) 
in the 101 chair

& 
tho i pray to the dust there

for

a

second

wind

too id best add 
a

Personalised 
Gale 
Force 
Hellstorm

(won size fits awl / 5G ready)

onto

my

wishlists

neverworld dream

from sashafarm.org

THOUGHT POPS

monsters rule
by 
physciatric consensus

when will out come the nephilim ?

they will crumble quickly
asking for uhu glue

~

gravity is a closed window

above us is sky 
space & forever

we ride 
a heavenly fedex
to where ?

~

knee jerk bombs
face saving missiles

90 dead before breakfast

cardiac bellies
sag on the third green

~

unspecial under bricks
nature is calling

forests & streams
fill my dreams

~

stretch out
in my wifi pod

assassinated pig
on cornershop bread

mind in a gone land

~

cornershop stale chat

i shall take my silence
as a hint
to leave

~

and for one precious moment

for one precious moment

one 
precious 
moment . . .

meh

from freerepublic.com