AFTERNOON HOGAKU

seaside sky
& a movie rose

sketching animals
in the shade
of the bungalow wall

then arms out
to collect the sun

~

life is small meccano 

in the back room pisser

of the meat stage wings

anything is a party

& a love adventure

in the festival 

of it all

PANIC BROTH SIMMERS

bungalows abandoned extensions
point skeletal in the naked morning
under cracked blue tarpaulin
swinging heavy in light wind

~

& nerves are jangled
behind the ok façade
of the van man parade

& a panic broth simmers
below the dog walkers
habit natter & chit-chat

~

i can smell it
&
it smells like

what the opposite would be

of the smell of
fresh cut grass

CHINO'D IN AN ARMCHAIR 198?

 

the bungalow cul-de-sac 

is flat as a playmat

& the static house dad  

watches sports tv

& does not turn his head

~

& chino'd in an armchair

under dormer corner stairs

you wait in the strange 

& finger comb gel glue

out your flop flick hair

~

youre shit-disco bound

if you can stick it

there are no drugs yet

& your hand sweats up 

your lonely ten pound note 

Photo by Jonathan Farber on Unsplash

I AM NOT HAVING A ROSY BACKFLASH

revolution 

from my bed
in your head

wherever

it WILL be televised

but i doubt i will be there

~

the devils in the details
but thats not all hes in
hes gone centrist
in the apathy malaise guesthouse
off the empathy bypass
england SW1

~

& my anger is homeless
is in emergency housing
exiled in the resignation hotel
SS something-nowhere

liberal haven

micro nation

one whole bungalow wide

photo Home Office HQ from the Dagenham Archive

DIAGRAM OF A STREET 1/2

peep hole blinds
show supper
show yellow light
show empty chairs

~

used-up done-over 
CRTs 
loll dumbstruck 
in 
front yard pits

~

rotten timber fence
corrals
home branded
wheelie bin
trash steeds

~

thru a 
rental
front room
bay window

no picture hangs
on the fireplace wall

~

old bungalow
now MOT office

flake paint eyesore
charms me

from imgkid.com

ACID SHOCK OF MORTAL CALENDAR

if you lose rhythm

look for it

its behind the hangovers

behind the never-was

behind the to-do list of not-right-now

thats long as all your arms

and be careful where your eyes slide

find a gentle shrub

with a bird on

with no appointments looming

no doorbell to blast

or little beetles 

busy on the impossible leaves

ignorant of panama 

and the tabloid scream

so careful where your eyes slide

into that glass universe

of endless dark materials

you

can

be

shaken shook smashed

like by finding out for example

just for example 

that

Home Alone was released 

closer to the Moon Landing 

than to today

and youd throw up

in your mouth a little

and

think

but wait !

thats the rhythm 

right there

in the acid shock

of the

mortal calendar

and again youre the bungalow man

in bungalow land

you dont know where the bungalow ends

and

the

man

began

 

and ok

you think

ok

thats pissed me off enough

that i can do another day

from nydailynews.com

OLD HIWAY TO S'END

  the old hiway to s'end
is
a
clot
of drivethrus now 
  the
blacktop frozen 
into 
ripples like a lowtide beach

  pubs are boarded up
in
armour of silver steel
and
  all the roadside bungalows 
  shed their paint like scabs

  the old hiway to s'end
hunches
its subway shoulders 
  weighed down by newbuild towers
under
skyroads treading heavy in lowcloud 
  so
  doomlike 
  and
  dull strong grey 

 from piley.blogspot.com - southend essoldo, warrior square

 

AFTER CLOCK-OUT

after clock-out
i wash up at the bungalow like a beached whale
coffee on the stove, i make a list
of
all
the
simple
things
i should be able to remember

DONT NAP YET i write and PLAY MUSIC

and
POETRY