UP MY BLUEJAY WAY

i
go
to
the
multi-cine-mega-plex
eager
to
see

all the trailers 

& talk show clips
& social media reels 

& internet spoilers
& poster scenes 

& green screen shoots

assembled
into
the
studios
tried & tested yawn yawn order

with a 15 quid coffee bucket

to counteract the necessary 

diazepam suppository deposit
up my bluejay way

MUSIC POP

& the jazz rock fusionators
touching up the funk

& the mentholated hiphop metalers
pillaging the cinema

hose me down
at half time

& fill me up again

from kleptones.bandcamp.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

CINEMA LIFE

silhouettes sit dry and processed
  like 
  condiments
in 
the 
    womb-dark 
    Screen 4

shapes 
  of simple 
  single intention
shapes 
  held 
  in an 
  alien hug
  wrapped 
  in a 
  sorcerers coat

back-of-the-head 
cash witnesses 
    all 
  hungry 
    for 
    a 
  dream 

    all reduced unpeople of only eyes

shapes 
  like
  seated ciphers 
  teased controlled
    and 
  cheaply liberated
willfully forgetting personal crisis
    till after 
  the neat resolution
    till after
  the rolling graffiti of faceless names
    
    and
    then
    their cold eviction
    out
    into
the cracked neon 
the rioting desolation
of
the
night drawn city - actors too they wander / wonder
      between 
      challenging
      roles
pulling their lines from ether 
  habit
    expectation
      and
      the
thick mud of hearts - blurting  improv 
on the 
raw boards of street
genuine in ignorance
  of
  their
  inglorious
  unwritten
  ends

from samuel-windsor.co.uk