HIS SILVER DISH

theres a man in the toilets
& hes not there about drugs
& he offers a folded towel
or a spray of something fragrant
& hes looking well turned out
& look heres his silver dish
& you HAVE to tip something

cos the man 

has a chair 

in the toilets 

for a job

& i have given these blokes
a loose button / a watch battery

a rough disc of pocket matter 

like those roman coins they find
with rough edges from the erosion

but never really on actual purpose

i dont know - 

i never expected 

there to be

a man there
& its difficult 

& its strange

being out there

in the world

even only needing 

a simple slash 

TWO POPS

there is a necessary level
of body & mind relaxation

for medically meaningful rest
that i just cannot achieve

without
eleven 

drugs
officer

~

we are soft lobsters

theoretically acclimatising

with plausible deniability

in the cosy boiling pot

of underthink

& black friday tvs

RIPTIDE BEFORE SLEEP

wheres all my stuff ?

the stuff i chucked out
over all the many years

where is it all now ?

landfill . . .

yeah i know in landfill
but where ?

anyone smoked 
a million cigarettes
you think ?

maybe william burroughs did
or half of greece

my to-do list
says
do to-do list

what earworm song
will i wake with ?

had - material girl
      isla bonita
      i see a darkness
      &
      halls of montezuma
this week already 

you can call me al ?
      again ?

now - box of rain
that would make a change

lego . . .
lego !

is a rapist
wearing my
charity shop
donations ?

add actually
to to-do list

the big sea
the big BIG SEA

dont want to think about it

who had a high time
on my drugs they stole
glastonbury 199?
they got sooooo lucky . . .

in the wheatsheaf
before its
crossrail 
displacement-
was it dave i saw ?
looked like dave
didnt acknowledge me

did i stare too much ?
i had a clabby sweat
dave or not

underline actually ?

whats under the ground ?
i mean now
under me now
deep deep down

a trapped river ?
plague bones ?

dont want to think about it

space
big big BIG SPACE

us
on a ball
hurtling
nowhere

just this simple wall
just this old glass
between us
& all the world has
& all the world takes

just this simple wall
just this old glass
between us
& 
the 
universes
unknowable 
mystic void

dont want to think about it

redo to-do list
i think

from scratch be best

cause im a material girl
living in a material world

birds
i mean look at them
they fly

tiny hearts
tiny tiny hearts
beating 
beat-beat-beating in there

they have hollow bones
whats inside them ?

air ?  helium ?

where
is 
all 
my 
stuff ?

from health.howstuffworks.com

OFFCUT POPS

1.

the sci-fi noise
in the space-age bathroom
is
only
my
ancient
guts


2.

the blinds are open
so i write quickly
as
soon
it
will
suddenly
be
dark


3.

  without 
  drugs
i became horribly aware
of the PHYSICAL FACT
of
the
earths-solid-girth
  pressing 
  upwards 
  against my boots


4.

  no 
  matter 
where the Grim Fuckers
washed up in adulthood
as
children
they
all
painted
autumn
scenes

from kidactivities.net

REFLECTIONS IN A BATH MAT

it was a thick year
and
without retreat

i'd felt the mass of the earth
pushing up 
thru the soles of my shoes like a living thing breathing
and
there
were
moments like drugs but without drugs
when
i couldn't tell if something was wet or just cold
and
the world exploded into pure concept and atoms

just bits to pick and choose

i'd been
burnt by optimism
and was
whole with poison

and now all the killer last lines were lined up
like cigarettes in a fresh pack
ordered
and
waiting to paint my breath