ON NIGHTWATCH

 

& so bored

so criminally bored

overmedicated & undershone

& wondering if 

we do enough

for the dead

PERCUSSION OF THE WIND

the hollow wooden tap tap thunk

of the plums falling
onto next doors
carp pond rooflet

here on the edge of storm floris

is the same sound
as children
dead & knocking 

an asking paradiddle

on heavens
unsure door

SILLY SAUSAGES

wearing green plastic shoes
we got from the garden shop
&
listening to neil youngs 

hysterical southern man guitar
i
collect the shit the drs asked for

on the provided plastic stick

& it reminded me
of hanging out
with shotgun jim
& all the dead framed
in pictures on his walls

such silly sausages arent they ?

he used to say

clasp knife in one hand

silver egg in the other

silly silly sausages

FRIDGE OF DIPS

in the lurid 

& binocular land

old paranoia 

grows lucid as owls

& 

our skein of civilisation
is tangled

like a rat king

painted flatly

on cheap veneer

&

an 

awful & deliberate

awareness deficit

cosplays a second coming
in

the

street theatre of the dead

& 

freedom 

is a buttery illusion

reaching
all the long way

from the biscuit tin
to the fridge of dips

CHALK & CHAIRS

there was no announcement
in any of the papers
& nothing on tv

no sirens
no shoutout
no sign

but i reckon / know / feel 

that all my teachers are gone now
dead / defeated / downsized
retired into the garden with crosswords

& they cant make me
reduce quadrilaterals
read steinbeck aloud
to anything ever again

in 

their 

compulsory fiefdoms

of chalk & chairs

UNFILED 2022 FIELD REPORTAGE 4

i warn the binmen
that i am building up
to jettison much ballast

its to maintain trim
i tell them
you know how heavy
the dead are
&
the screaming detail of things

UNFILED 2022 FIELD REPORTAGE 3

the dove sways
with its weight

on the topmost curve
of the conifers branch

& the lily twice dead
is blooming today

~

you !  

flower !

you could have been anything

&

obvious & complete 

&

heavy headed in the wind swing

& 

on a bed of hard cold clay

you nod & nod & nod

like an old old man

at another VE day

POLO MINT HOLE

in the gloam of undelivered winter

i pin mad hope
on the accruing spring lands

it is impossible pressure
i know
for only a season to shoulder

but the emptied airs all dead

& in need of natures basting

& the hope is in the hope of it

like a polo mint hole

if the hope is anywhere

FRAG 21

its a dead world

   or it feels like it . . .

. . . feels like it will be

a world on pause

   so it seems - 

      waiting

or its a pregnant world :

   natures delirious & rife

mushrooms 

   always telling

      the trees what to do

outside our human 

   drek & bomb art

STAY STILL & TELL ME

 

DREAM FUDGE POP COHEN

 

leonard cohen 

rode a lion

big as aslan

in from the nodding corn

&

thru a street  

of 

caveat-heavy dead

~

& 

new york 

art deco

kerbside 

furniture-finds

light as buddha 

& 

compassion poesy

lined his sentinel wake

photo - Garbage Flare from the Dagenham Archive

CARBOHYDRATE COMA

i write
i draw

i lay prone in a carbohydrate coma

i wave a camera around

i
find
loss & confusion
with
every
waking

& the dead call by proxy

thats how we say goodbye

from petapixel.com

STEPPING UP DOWN MEMORY STREET

theres a rolling rota out in the ether
an invisible delta sphere spreadsheet

everyday i am allocated 

a gone relative or two

even if all i got is a sensation
& a memory of a carehome banana

others remember more
but theyre gone too

so i step up down memory street

doing my time 

keeping 

the

unforgotten 

unforgotten

from express.co.uk

ODE TO A FLY

oh youre one 

inquisitive fly

what do you know
of black mirrors & acrylic paints ?

oh inquisitive fly

that shade is called Mars Black
if youre interested

learn fast 

inquisitive fly 

learn fast

for you shall be 

dead by dinner

& dust by dawn

from dreadcentral.com by stormbrush.com

SHOTGUN MORNING

wired & tired 

on 

the
tablecloth starting blocks

empty starting gun goes 

      CLICK

morning coffee shouts 

    GO GO GO

it must be talking
to someone else


~

  because 

something drew a circle around me

i hear shotguns in the distance
& drink the sunshine on the bed

  because
something drew a line around me

&

i

feel

machines on the breeze

of 

the revolutionary dead

from circle line art school youtube.com

MORE THOUGHT POPS

the great experiment
is off its rails 

off course

goal posts
warp and run
a lifetime away

~

hungry !  
but for what ?

says no Real Animal
ever

~

she wears a blonde wig
instead of goodbye

& goes off grid
with ease

~

worry about what to wear

to
go
shopping 

for clothes

~

leaders make the worst reality tv

in
the
very
many
layered
meanings

of that immense oxymoron

~

follow the tweets
from off a famous name

one hundred 
years
dead

~

look for the joy

look for the joy

look
for
the
joy

on tv ?

from culturedvultures.com

FEEDING TIME AT THE ZOO

cordless 
landline
passed-on
at 
pizza time

( be strong-
  if you call them once
  you call them every time )

let
some
other
mad
drunk
ruin themselves 
calling the world

anyway
i always
bring the drink
dont i ?
and
i
seriously
cant
be
dealing
with
a
clabby phone call
in
this
degenerate 
state

i can smell my own snot
i can !
and
my
arms
are an untrained operators
practice crane

and my boots-
well 
they
might as well be
on the back of my head

wait tho-
cant you see 
im hiding here ?
from the mutants
and the landsharks . . .

even

attempting

going

to

piss

is

too

fraught

with

risk

of

exposure

and

quick

defeat

down here

under no stars

a new kind of dead

on

the

killing floor

from vg247.com

FROM THE BOOK OF THE FUTURE

ANTEROOM

the unformed loom in the gloam - 

a lost dog or minor deity ?

dont matter no difference
on this dark dome 

cos
either 
way 
i
bet
you

a leg is raised
in
baptism and piss
for 
the
desperate unions here

in
the
anteroom of the dead 

from roblox.com

TEACHERS

1.DEAD TEACHERS

all
my
teachers
are
probably
dead
now

they all seemed 
about to retire 
all the time
back then

now theyre
sprawled in the council ground
like forgotten potatoes

or dust in urns on mantels
blended with polyester
and
assassinated
chipboard

those lords of the chalk
those pantomime villains
their
documented
influence
still
lurks
subliminal
in
my
mashup dna

and i can
only
remember
maybe 6 7 8 surnames
attached 
to
haircuts
acceptable violence
and
stationary cupboard rumour

or
plastic gloves
cos
of
a
chalk allergy


2. ABSENT TEACHERS

clearer
are
the memories
of
the
teachers union strikes
when
we
sat
there
waiting
and
no
teacher showed up

everyone kept the noise down
so no one would find out
and
id
have
35 mins or 1 hour 10
to
read or gaze out the window
safe inside a quiet conspiracy

or a head would walk in the door
grim faced
flustered
and
send
us
all
home

you never saw
30 odd kids
move so fast

out into the uncharted
daytime
of
cornershops
and fags


3. CRYING TEACHERS

and when a substitute teacher
was drafted in

new & young & terrified

half
the
class
would ramp up the smut and the swearing
to
see 
how quickly 
they could 
make them 
lose their rag
or
cry

the other half
laughed
them
on

till the tears flowed
and a proper teacher
would come in
and
make
us
all
feel bad

from community on pinterest