BAD NEWS ANTIDOTE - SMALL TOWN FLUFF 1

written as a a reaction 

to the horror & toilet

of global news'

seamless rolling hysterical misery

i present bland events

i call Small Town Fluff

~

everyone is unsurprised

when the bagel place on the corner
shuts after only a year

everyones suspicious are compounded

as the vape shop up the road 

expands into a unit twice as big

& the weather is like yesterdays weather

& no one has been hurt

& cats watch from windowsills

the dogs walking up the park

ABOUT A GARDEN

from our chairs on

the cracked patio we laid

we watch the starlings
flit & flash

on the feeder
in the sun
& in the daisies
on the buttercup lawn
where the hose lays
warming its snakish coils
in plastic slumber

& both the cats 

tuck away their legs

& observe in neatest peace

 

A PERFECT PENCIL

let them have their prams
their toys / their politics

let them cosplay leader
in the swollen twilight

their fingers on the banks
& the button for the bombs

ive given up on the bastards
more times . . . i lost count

i only need
a perfect pencil

& enough quiet
to write a true sentence down

in this hard won bubble
of love & lunch & lexapro

baby birds learning at the feeder
cats making loaves on the lawn

CATS RIDING DONKEYS TOO

the worlds ok really
just look at the internet

i can see the species unravel

in narcissism & violence

or zoom with a therapist 

& see cats riding donkeys too

i have scrolled for miles

& theres no end in sight

potted life on tap

in the soft lap of plenty

FRAG 29

 

dawn is drawn

in a dark smear

of smudged pencil

a sharp lead edge 

gouging house outlines

as if with a fist

& the bulletins are bleak

& the cats walk cautious

smelling its strange 

PLEASE DISCUSS 3, INTERNETS

the amazon prime minister
got the facebook jones

instagram cats
in q-anon hats

ebay payday
finds your next Favourite Thing

~

please discuss

you have one hour

ask if you need more paper

TEN YEARS A BLOGGER 3/5

 

ten years ago i started this blog

i wonder how to escalate this practice

i see no simple avenue of expansion

i have not yet become a painter

i find hashtags an optional side salad

i dream of a dedicated website

i dream of uploading to wordpress

i dream of a novel . . .

a genre novel but subversive 

literature by the back door

yes

i dream of reading into camera

to stripped down trip hop jazz

i might manage another short story

i need a new energy efficient technique

i do draw cats in ink

i have not become a painter

you may not be aware 

but repetition is likely 

everyday i wake up in the future

the past a fever dream

2011 still sounds futuristic to me

2011 hot sauce committee part two & bad as me

     lora hirschberg & pamela martin

     leywah gbowee

thank you for your continued support

h a t c h b a c k s o n f i r e .

b l o g s p o t .

c o m

FOUND LIST 4

close & heavy

but wind is light

the blanket of early curtains

the arrival of bats

wings over black lawn

its feet

its animal heart

its shadow blimp

dishwasher ?

mend m4

name ALL the cats

photo Corrupted Shape #14 from the Dagenham Archive

NEIGHBOUR POP 4

3.  MORNING

school governess  
leaves 
her 
corner empire
for dawn tai chi

gravel u-drive 
round 
a palm tree island

the flame tree there

will catch
low afternoon sun

long shadows
on
the
parade ground



2.  FUNERAL

&
all
the
firemen came out quiet
for
her
husbands death convoy

100 years ago

like the soldiers they are



1.  LAST ACT

i watched
amazement escalating
as

her porch
took him
four years
to build

& its not special

but to her

like the soldier it is

from flickr.com

AMISH OR TOMORROW

gibson

azimov

wells

star trek -

i may dream of the amish

but

i wake up in THEIR tomorrow

animal gps down

headlights on dim

cats

from pinterest.com

BEDROOM LANDS 5

back
then

we said Boat Drinks
like in that film
like we had control

unthinking 
on dry drained 
hill marsh land

but our plans had their own plans-

shot up the arse
left in a dumpster

like in
that film

~

back
then
the  

s e p a r a t i n g  

moves of universal turns
sat messed up and howling 
in homebrew sediment

and who were we
to do anything
but
wait and roll ?

~

moves
bit
unstoppable
in
unrememberable
goodbye slices

alone but for horses
i saw a bird
fly backward
in high wind

on the allotment path
one dishcloth day

~

bedroom lands become
unhome rental holes

damage deposits

711 stolen bread

weird vibes
in
the
broken lift stairwell

new pub desperation
sang lionel richie
down
the
landline

~

and the hedgehogs
that patrolled
parent-tended
moon-silver lawns

where we barked our drum beats
till the grey paste dawn

are
gone
too

brian may
tv speaks
his
springwatch concern

from express.co.uk

BACK THEN

at

3
4
5
AM

i walk home

headphones in 
something psychedelic 
on
a
magnetic reel

sailing above time

and
i
ask
the
night
cats
impossible questions

under the moons
stained hole

and
aid
stuck hedgehogs
up
the
fortress
wall
of
curbstones

away from dawn traffics
killing
wheels

from adamiphoto.com

OLD WISDOM

best do
what your
body 
tells you

says 
the 
neighbour
lady

shes
hissing 
at the cats
on her lawn

but

i
say
to
the
neighbour
lady

if i 
listened to
my body

i would 
be asleep
on the toilet
all the time
choking down carbs

pic from vertical-slice.net

BABY JOHANSEN

papa !

baby johansen cries
early development gifted

observes for the first time-
n o r m a l i t y

papa !

he cries

what the fuck are you doing !

~

baby johansen- 
pities
nights
grey
auditor

pale moonlight
in
a
black mirror ?

baby johansen says

that does not add up at all

~

theres little cats

baby johansen says

baby johansen-
found delight

little cats
with
little faces

he says

little cats-
make way down 
garden fence wall

~

cousins

baby johansen muses

they
are
a
weird
mirror

weird siblings
of
the
moonlight

then-
papa
night auditors number ?

papa . . ?

~

the dishes are
where they are

baby johansen says
dead serious

computer: end program
he says
then-
computer: drury lane rain

baby johansen
overtired- 

my body papa !
it speaks cipher
i
cannot
decode

~

papa-
lifts head from hands
fetches changing mat

wonders-
what
have
we
done ?

pic from banorama.com

HOME TOWN POPS

1. SEA CHEST

gran had her ghost story

her apparition
at the end of the bed

a woman
hovering
on
grandpas sea chest

she
only
aired
it
once or twice

and i was sceptical
cos me id talk about it all the time

and anyway 
i was more interested
in the sea chest

in my childs mind
there was d day in there
dunkirk
u boats
sharks off the n african coast

and a liberated pistol
i could smuggle home




2. SMALL TOWN

small town
shut cinema
was pool
is now bingo

evacuated farm buildings
sit in the scraps

the waterworks so thoroughly vandalised
they
shut
them
down

conrad lived here for 20 minutes
pepys hung out in the worlds end
revolting peasants
lit the marsh beacons

the queen mother
came to visit all the oil
shook my pas hand

and the school fire
well the police asked me about that
art class 1985
when i was drawing a man
with flames for a beard

still theres forest

silent woods
rolling uphill

you could be an animal there

and if you squint
from up top
you can see
londons jigsaw skyline

like a grey 
5B smudge

pocked with fragmented pencil lead



3. CATS

we saw five cats
just out walking 
round the crescent
under a 5pm drama sky

we said hi to one
rubbed his neck
he sat on the kerbstone
where old uncle bulgaria 
used to potter
in his steptoe yard

one was in a bungalow window
next door to where 
that tv lady grew up
she added a 'van' to her common name
and 
left 
for the green rooms 
and the silver lights

he watched us like a border guard

one played in a cardboard mountain
left over from flatpacks
piled out by the wheelie bins

one was spread out on front garden cement
like he fell out the sky
landed by plants looked like froth
and a window dog
behind him 
was barking in double glazed silence

another one strolled by
like some victorian 
perambulating 
taking the air
before aperitifs

and
back home
theres ours

still on the same pillow
no intention of moving
till
his
food and shit and shot 8.30 pm

and i thought 
where were the people
in this fuckburg town?

can hear them plenty enough at night 
thats for sure

sounds like the monaco F1
or the isle of wight TT
sometimes

its oxford freaking circus out there
when 
we
are 
not looking

SOE pistol, welrod, from ww2nation.com

NIGHT BONES

when the long day climbs down its own bones
and
the
night calls time on the day
with
bells only birds hear
and
front rooms glow yellow and blue and quiet
then
artificial suns 
on 
concrete sticks
create themselves in crazy flickers
and
shine sick orange
on
the
mist slick black top of cul-de-sacs and crescents 
and
the no-mans-land of roundabout junctions
where
thin bold foxes prowl
by
truckers thrown lunch 
and
hatchbacks cool their engines 
clicking apologies at the stars
and
slow stepping alley cats
sit
silent
between plastic wheelie bins
their 
lids lifted high with xmas kipple

thats

when
theres a pause 
in
the worlds pumping breaths 
and 
the
lucky
can
rest 
hand in hand
in the warmth 
of 
nights 
dull 
pockets

from jamiehallphotography.photoshelter.com