AFTERNOON HOGAKU

seaside sky
& a movie rose

sketching animals
in the shade
of the bungalow wall

then arms out
to collect the sun

~

life is small meccano 

in the back room pisser

of the meat stage wings

anything is a party

& a love adventure

in the festival 

of it all

ENAMEL CAMPING MUG

it was muggy 

& smelt of gutter nettles
the air heavy 

with empty threats 

of a storm that wouldnt come
like fists in your face 

after last orders
the accompanying feet 

not able to ground a hook
& i am reminded 

of all the festivals long ago
the slippery bacon 

in processed rolls
after a morning zoot 

as a mild primer
& night-chilled white pinot 

in an enamel camping mug
infinite techno 

in the head shop haze
& a rock tune-up 

somewhere over a dusty low rise
but this was 

homebase carpark
streatery food truck 

firing up for lunch

FREE THEN I SUPPOSE

we

lay

in 

the corn lake
under the sun king
horizon a memory
waiting on the dark

~

we

went

down 

the farmer lanes

& the train spurs
to the corner pubs

felt like Stand By Me on drugs


~

& high & young

& haystack scratched
every blink 

became a 

matrix glitch

a festival-eye 

insomnia re-render


~

& cold glasses
& muddy boots
&
the pool table naked under stars

free as we could be 

for then

i suppose 

photo by Georgi Kyurpanov on Unsplash

FESTIVAL MUSK

sandalwood sticks and plywood bonfires
smoking 
in
the
solid dark of country
and
the rip of tent zips talking

the
damp air in nettle ditches
old beer
damp shoes
and 
the 
wafting funk of weed and wax flares

it all comes rushing back to me
the Radiohead tragedy . . .

rushing back
on bbq winds of suburbia
where
bmw boys bellow about baps and burnt burgers and bites
on 
white 
legs
on plastic moulded chairs
behind slats of council fences

and
i
remember
counting survivors
in pale yellow mornings
cheap bacon marked up in the buses
when
the
bass
came thru the ground again