HOOVER BAG

it looks
just like
as if

god vacuumed up 

all the shavings 

& the trimmings

& all the broken pieces 

& the reject pieces

& all the dried glue curls

& the redundant gristle 

left out & scattered around his work space

with his high falutin coffee stained notes

& then later 

emptied the hoover bag
all over 

this land

hes forgot

ABOUT THE PAST 3

curated
as i was
to look undone
& broken in
& nothing new
i dovetailed

easy peasy
into the ragged sky
& the moons

sun-faded 

goldenrod
stoner face

SOFT FIST SCHEDULE

& winters
iron back
is broken
by
the
soft fist schedule
of
springs bulbs & buds

~

a double daffodil
much more yellow
than its ivory fellows
is alone in facing
to the east

POEM FOR MY PARENTS-IN-LAW

i wish i had not been broken
so i would have been able to know you both better

i wish i had not been so sick
as to see your home & city only that one time


~


thank you for the cameras & the peppers
thank you for the xanax & the breaded chicken
thank you for your daughter
i am sorry if i kept her away


~


i hope one day in the next world
we will bait our hooks with new wishes
& fish together by a still blue lake

i hope one day in the next world
we can camp together in the forests there
& sleep painlessly under strange new stars

i hope one day in the next world
we can watch all our animals play together
in a sunshine clearing on soft green moss


~


i hope one day i will meet you again
in the place it is youve gone

the place it is where we all go

when we go

why not why not why not

note - picture is of this poem written into an origami boat 

launched 20/05/2022 into the Danube

with the ashes of Istvan & Katalin Margitai

DONT THAT SOUND GRAND

kill the morning with art now

dont that sound grand ?

~

used to be sick 

with residue & loathing

&

a fermenting hangover

&

it called for more of the same

broken & glorious

broken WAS glorious

deliberate incapacity

was a political act

dont that sound grand ?

~

alcohol had an energy then
before its function crept
into the cold bone abyss

& 

everything else
EVERYTHING else
from the trees to the grey cocaine
were just chasers boy chasers

chasing me down 

the greased runway

of the cliche slide

FROM A CAFE NEWSPAPER

judge says-

law on
assisted
suicide
is correct in its prohibition

judge says-

its right
this law
should be
broken
sometimes

judge-

is
retired
powerless
unaccountable

useless

waste of newsprint

like all the expremiers
advocating
narcotic
liberal
legalisation

hes giving a damn too late

from pearlsofprofundity.wordpress.com

MOVIE POPS & A BOOK POP

DEATH AND THE PENGUIN

penguin at the graveside
hired
tired
paid
to wake them
on their way

dont ask
youre working youre alive
dont ask
youre writing youll survive

penguin in the graveyard
his work is not hard
fish fed and under stars

dont ask
youre working youll thrive
if you dont know
wont have to hide

penguin plays his part
stood still in the rain
falls ill
in pain
needs a transplant
mourners acquire a childs heart

but you looked in the bottom drawer
found out
safe no more
and now must wangle
a plane
to antartica

from goodreads.com

UNFORGIVEN POPS


1.

film
on
broadcast
tv

saw it 
on release 
1992

high & awed
a western

get in
i remember thinking

get in


2.

i remember
the bits we liked

& like them again

i remember
the bits we laughed at
afterwards
in a hatchback
knee deep
in fast food kipple

with friends

i dont see

anymore



3.

hes big
hes broken
hes bent over

hes sick
in the rain
in a strange town

he sees a ghost - hendershot

but he aint like that anymore


5.

he dreams -

the 
angel of death
has 
snake eyes

but
he aint like that 

anymore ?

from theredlist.com

AND WHERE IS BRIAN NOW

i wish i was like you

said poor hapless brian
always weed high
&
gently paranoid

nothing gets to you

~

now me -

i 
was 

  st gg r d
    a  e e

 un - - - tethered

  discovered

pleased to be noticed
      but
angry to be voiced
      i
   became
  suddenly
   trapped 
inside his articulation

~

i remember we were smoking
out in the service road night
i remember some horrible light 

coming ON 

inside 
    of 
    me

i remember i faced the wall
i remember i hid my face
  
   &
  like
   a
Teflon Dick
  
   i
buried
  its
warning 
  glow
   d
   e
   e
   e
   e
   p

~

now everyone -

theyre
broken 
busted
flytipped
somehow
someway
on the sofas and sidements
of the unsure foreshore

or will be
if not yet

& my eyes leave the door open
& i prak-tiss rite-ting
my
insides
down
free from disguise

wondering where is brian now 

under satellite television skies



 

from youtube

BREAKDOWN SAINTS

we all have programs
of
furious tints or puppy glee
unknowable 
in 
the 
unthought instinct of deep cave heads
touched by ambiguous updates of drab ammos
thru 
school / life / long lonely nights

and this program holds us fast 
like mental luddites / resistant like steel
to
cycles of drink and pills and NOs
till the program is armour / walls of shaking solitude 
and
inside is powder and dust / egoless and nude

and when it all breaks down ( as it MUST - for PROGRESS )
under
heavy pressure of street barometers
and
unplanned-for stormheads
of 
bad money / bad love / dark sex trails / buried realisation
then can we hold the jigsaw together ? 

re-educate and reform 
the
new learned gears 
to  
new speeds and new slows
to
grow into New Me and Benevolent Us 
that 
walk out there again under the coy sirens
unbroken AND broken
with
hand-mind grip BOTH stronger and looser 
worried and strong in new soft shoes 
and aware they can break AGAIN 
into bomb piles of homeless brick
and
they know
and 
touch ( aware and worried ) others in their baby stages
with heroic tolerance / owl wisdom

and
they
are
the
breakdown saints - tell us by our bottomless eyes

 www.jantoo.com