NOTEBOOK ON MY KNEE

i write OLD
five times
in the notebook
on my knee

& then TIME
seven times
with this pen
that the nibs
gone all feathery

& next is war
& i write that like a whisper
like this would make
all the tanks & planes
turn into whispers too

& last BOLLOX
eight times
one for each season of the year

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

UNFONTED

we end the day
stretched out

in 
nights empty clamour

mouths full of fortune

arms twisted 
into
a
figure
eight

no sane font would claim

from useek.com