SIMPLE LIFE CAN BE

cigarettes
never tasted
so good
as when
a black dog
camped
in every room


~

shaving my dome

well
it just makes me feel better

like sharpening a knife


~

you drink at night
& lie in a field
& theres the stars
how simple
life can be

REMINISCING 101

NINE YEARS DRY 1

nine 

years 

dry

& thirsty puns aside
theres still fruit inside

this 

fermented

sediment

shell

NINE YEARS 2 

(TO THE TUNE OF CHEST FEVER)

didnt know i was losing

didnt know my using

was really abusing

thought i was winning

thought the delusion

was my own decision

that gloves-off hard collision

of addiction 

& poison

took down my position

of political

disinhibition 

down down down down 

below the pubs

mad carpet floor

NINE YEAR HANGOVER

im a 

fine-aged 

backpage now

a 

full-bodied 

memory cow

an index 

for 

reminiscing 101

&

a

hangover nine years long  

from townandcountrymag.com

 

EXISTENTIAL MATHS

when i used to
drink n that
n spliff n snort
n pop n that

i was at least eight people

maybe many more

on
a
good 
fuckitall
jarhammer
night jag

all fronts fighting
evacuated 
castle
defence


~


as few as one now

or less

if
the
rain stays away too long

in the grey murk lurk
up
there

but-

doors open
courtyard milling

drought
to
share

from publicdomainpictures.net

I SAW THE BURST MINDS OF MY GENERATION

i saw the burst minds of my generation

gurning on tumblr
in the macarena nights

saturating embolisms
in the hemorrhage dawn 

lobster boiled & heat-rash itching
in the benidorm buffet

locked down & coding
dreaming the boat-drinks dream

school shot & demobbed
cleaning hospitals
in a steroid rage

i saw the guest minds of my generation

constipated & dissipated
misappropriated & isolated 
bomb-alert evacuated
lost in the shooter-alert ring-road

doing their time
half graceful & full bombastic
unaware by design
in the meat hq b&b

from goodreads.com

TEFLON DICK AND THE AL FRESCO TOSSERS

TEFLON DICK

objectively observing 
the died days gone past
from 
the
imaginary sanitorium picture window
of my helter skelter mind

my coping strategy 
appears to have been

Drink It
and
act
like 
a 
Teflon Dick




AL FRESCO TOSSERS

too much 
i shouted

al fresco tossers

at
any
up-town pub crowd 
that overflowed
onto
the
streetside
market crates

cos the tossers werent 

drinking properly enough

for
me

pic from thelondonist.com

THE GAFFER TAPE OF HONESTY

time was
id drawn lines in my head

walls built by a child
from crumbling crayon

heavily plastered 
in the teenage trenches
of rough peer wars

reinforced
with the bullshit girders of adult steel
in
the
cash-on-a-friday pay days

( and if the decoration analogy
  is clumsy and pushed too far
  then
  its
  enough
  to
  say . . . )

id boxed everything in
everything nailed down

but id cross these lines
when i drank
and it was dark
and everything was mad
and tomorrow
was 
a
myth
away

patrolling these borders
in excellent inebriation
they
appeared
only 
like spiders webs
outlined in dew
and
spun
across
the
pub bog doorway

the forbidden was tempting
and id lift something
brazen and easy 

i was a sneak thief 
working in his own pockets 

and id blurt it out . . .

and no one noticed anything
mighty was happening at all

but in the morning
i
would
be
locked
in
a
journey of awful remembrance 
berating myself
down a black whirlpool
in
the
awful daylight
of
the
another bus commute 

but tho time patched 
time eroded too 

and it all collapsed like wet card

the walls a ramshackle cowboy build after all

and
i
was
free
to
breakdown on the rug
wailing into the phone
a dinner i didnt want forgotten and burnt
in
the
dirty dish kitchen

then it was the challenging task
of mending a busted tool box
with
busted 
tools

i used the gaffer tape of honesty
of lobotomised openness
of fm cliche love
and
i
let
the
busted
be

from mindyourdirt.com

THURSDAY POPS

A RUBY PORT CASK 
FOR FINISHING SCOTCH

all that drink

it was like i was in a barrel

going over niagra

scream-laughing
for
twenty
odd
years



TV POP
HITLER FOREVER APPARENTLY 

we watch people shop
watch nail paint dry

theres a half-hour
list of movies
jesus would have enjoyed

and at any one time
on one channel somewhere
always at least one

hitler show



FORGOTTEN BEAST REMINDS

at night
i hear

a kind of deep cough

it comes in the window
like from off across the marsh

could be the river port . . . 

but
sounds
more
like
something     big and forgotten
                     is
             clearing its throat

      as
       a
reminder

never for a speech

from scotchclubyeg.com

LONDON MEMORIES (AN APRON OF FREEMASONS)

pm isnt it
leicester square 

a raggedy glamorous maybe rentboy
links my arm talking about company
his eyes alight with a morning hit

i rescue my arm dont i
telling myself
he thinks i am a rock star

its the sunglasses isnt it
people always look
at sunglasses without the sun

leicester square
movie remake why hollywood why
still we are curious

red guide ropes
i am trapped 
in red guide ropes 
drunk 
laughing 
a fool arent i

i am only looking for dark
and a story to escape into
inside we could be anywhere

movie is full of mojitos
bad dialogue  
flash cars
and after i am needing another drink bad
my mind dried
like a forgotten potted plant 

so then wooden pubs isnt it 
old as the river
ornate ceilings like art
and i am timeless
and i am strong
and i am accelerated
and i am refueled 
and i speak of my love of wooden pubs 

( wood
  its good
  it feels
  like it should )

so shoot pool isnt it
smoke hangs like mountain cloud 
no air in here
no air moving anyway
everything is on the corner of stagnation
sweat in circles under my arms
short sleeve bad check crinkle shirt
so i hold scotch ice to my forehead dont i

so then we drink our way east
pictures on paper money
as made up as anything

see bob fossil order a beer
no no no not him
who is it who is that
its lucien sanchez 
and hes got an ale

see freemasons leave their hq
silent fat suited secret phalanx
leak out their huge stone monster 
one city block long 
they come in this bar dont they
single file like a field trip
and they go up the backstairs
no eyes on anyone

then we are over the road arent we
laughing at their ornate aprons
arcane books
solid mystery
in their exclusive freemason shop window

and all the pubs 
are all weirdly empty
just us isnt it
and disinterested barmen
nuts for dinner  
and all the streets 
are all weirdly empty
just street cleaning carts
driven buzzing electric
by hi-vis immigrants
city blending and city mundane 
its some side passage
secret london isnt it
painted windows and wedged open doors
record shops that never open

i leave my fingerprints 
on all the brass poles
i leave my dna 
in all the cold back room pissers

and i wonder if we have found heaven

or at least a place outside politics

a drinking bubble isnt it
long may it last
amen

from freemasonrytoday.com

DECLARATION POPS

  BY THE POWER OF GRAYSKULL

   i declare heaven  Real
 an equal opportunity employer
         and
        affordable

   i declare  Murder 
  never to hurt at all

   and  nothing to be Sad
       any
       more


  THE GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN DREAMER

     i declare
  famous lives
     celebrated

       check  &  duh

     too 
    tho -

  i declare  chanceless orphans
 to be the  unknown dreamers

   stuck in the thrust of sun

      their
 celebration
    overdue


  WORK POP

 work
 working
 workaholic
 drink
 drinking
 alcoholic

 break
 breaking
 breakdown
 sleep
 rest
 eiderdown


  STRENGTH POP

    real
  strength

 is not  impenetrable

     but
   ballet  flexible

 open as a western movie sky

   antihero
 unformed & rootless
     talking to animals 
      on
     the
   desert  skin


  DRUNK WRITERS

  no  longer compatible
 with the drugs of my trade
     i
   take
 another
     route

  as  equally old
   and  cliche

 homey lube  in the toy age
    an ace punt 
  thru the timed exit
    and
 plenty  of 
  sitting  down

from wiki grayskull

FOUR POPS

we 
live 
like a row of terraces

invisiby different
till you go inside

look each other in the eye

and
dont
lie

~

its unusual

its night

i am awake inside the opiates
and
i
am
full
of
love

for you all

~

i write without drink

no
one
has
ever
done
a harder thing

ever

~

the footlights now
are
made
of
a
nuclear glow

the actors
confused & desperate
can
only
carry
on

from dudeiwantthat.com

TRILOGY POPTARTS

ESTRANGED DIARY

i 
write
partitioned storm walls
against
death
&
the
void

estranged diary scratches 
on a caveman wall

&
i write without drink 

no
man
has ever done
a
harder thing



PRESSURE

naughty world i say

why
do
i
feel
like it must be me
who
makes
you
behave ?

UN-TECH WOODLAND

theres 
electric light
polished glass
towering steel

spacemen in spacepods
orbit
doing spacethings

&
i
dream of a forest
         a campfire

to
sit
by - on the nod

     till
     a
     dew wet dawn

MURDER

TAKING PARTS

the night took pieces from me 
when 
i
was 

  separated shattered and solemn
  
  incandescent 
  with  
  drink

and
staring 

  munted mullered and marked 

  in accelerated
  ennui
  overdrive

at 
the 
crowded sky 
over
my 
hometown streets

i thought it held ANSWERS
there
in
the 
turned backs of clouds
and
in
the
silver phantoms of stars

  ANSWERS
  always 
  just 
out of reach

  now 
i attempt early sleep
and

  search seek and hunt

  wired
  and
  tired

for
my
lost
pieces 
in 
the
nights inbetween moments
and
in
the 
psychedelic soup of dreams