ABOUT DEDICATION

those people who exaggerate
& outright lie thru their teeth
about how wasted they got
about the hell they raised
& the mess they became
to impress a different circle

really devalue the work & effort
the dedicated rest of us made
to get really bent & derelict
after-hours in the fields & marsh
in the fog with the cattle
hysterical & leaping
at the heavy blur of the moon

 

DRAMA IN THE RAGING MUNDANE

 

now the marsh fog of indecision
wastes
my
time
again

with 

its 

this or pointless that

morning wardrobe chaos

& i dress in soft whatever

itching

in a sartorial fug

knowing

i will be back

HAIR BY NICKY CLARKE

babylon & the black dog

bogart in bohemia

theyre talking to denzel

for the movie

my ideas lose their way

in the unpaved quagmire
of a spiralling mind

&

my thoughts do

what cigarette smoke does

breathed out in the fog

the butcher of bakersfield 

betty boop & barberella

in b&q in brent cross

hair by nicky clarke

ROUGH & FUMBLE TETRA PAK TEAR

 

milkfloats
homey rattle
gone now

that dawn 

clink & dink

now a silent 

plastic twist

in the light 

of a fridge

~

& on frosty school mornings

theyd emerge

out the fog

like a friend

by the tree there

on the corner

that later

was almost home

LOST IN THE INSIDE FOG

where wanders
my
great
katsu ?

lost in the inside fog maybe
&
the lie of the western journey

~

soft shoes waiting

in the

work boots shadow

monopoly on the rear-view purview

JUST A TURTLES HEAD

i have these moments 

  when
  something big & ambiguous

  with deja vu on the side 
  seems about to break thru

i hope its a stab jab of chi

  without its anxiety hat

but its just a turtles head

  a faux lucid visitor
  in the steel wool fog

SAFER THAN TREPANNING

in the heave & low-fro 

of the slow-sick fug-fog
my brain does whine 

its white noise moan

skull boxes it 

it is muddy

i cant even wail

~

i go live in my belly

its simpler 

more animal

roomier 

safer than diy youtube trepanning

MADE IT THIS FAR

made it this far

soft office
electro-typer on

shower & coffee did good work
but its not enough

made it this far
soft sans office

listening to the binmens 

plastic rumble & iron wheeze

reality for breakfast 

in the come down fog

cat on windowsill overwatch
nude brunch in a plastic bag

SUBJECTIVE FOG

i am interested
& 

complicity invested

in what will happen to this human race
& 

its bluegreen oversold undersewn home

i wish i could observe 

from above the clouds

with sandwiches & coffee

insulated in a chomsky orbit

  because

from deep in the subjective fog

theres moments when the final

  Maximum Flash

looks like peace & freedom

  for everyone 

     to me

from wikiImages & pixabay from interestingengineering.com

THRU THE FOG

THE ADVENTURES OF A FORD CALLED DAGENHAM

wires
they got crossed

likes they say

indoor fog
falls down
the day

you knows the kind

like cotton wools
clogging the
hippocampus

tell me something eye donts know

my names ford dagenham
ims a writer
and dawns is behind me

eye gets the call
uptown they says
yous not black are you ? they says
yous irish ? they says

yeah whys not eye says
ims phil fucking lynott
whys not ?

now this its code
they knows the rest of the code ?

silence
fuck ems
they donts know the code

wees been compromised

tell me something eye donts know

my name is ford dagenham
ims a writer
eye took the call

eye looks at my hand
it holds a mobile
lines open

naked phone eye thinks
naked phone eye writes it down
underlines it - a title

you wants the gig ? they says
now thats
thats aints how the code goes

fuck ems
exclusive ? eye says playing them along
exclusive they says

eye calls a cab on the landline 
ground phone eye thinks
my pen
well it hovers unsure

my names ford dagenham
ims a writer
fuck all ems

eye gets my piece
eye makes my peace
ha
as ifs

anyway eye gots a title
before lunch too
and ims dry
so very dry
but us ?
wees are compromised
for sure
and theres fuckers
fuckers uptown

now the code
well they were meant to asks
if eyes a dog next

then eye says 
eye got a telegram from the 19th c
you missed your funeral id says
id says the 19th c wants its bastards back

thats the code
it has to be complex long
it has to be outs of time
theres a lots at stake
in this essential work

and us ?
wees all shades
wees all species
wees dont do wetherspoons
and well 
wees compromised

tell me something eye donts know

my names ford dagenham
ims a writer
and eye says it
so eye knows
so eye donts forget

ims compromised
buts its not my first rodeo

and its a fine day to die
not sayings who tho am eye ?

just sayings you know
just sayings

and well eye gots a title
before lunch too and the rest
wells the rest
its on the streets of course

cabs horn outside

eye picks up my keys
eye checks my pockets
eye picks up my naked phone

in the hallway
eye can hears clear the music
from The Magnificent Seven
inside the waters pipes

my name is ford dagenham
ims a writer
phone
phone
naked phone

off eye goes
eye knows it a trap

but what aints ?

tell me something eye donts know

pic from vanityfair.com

THE COURAGE OF THE FLEA

young man on a silver crutch
leans
up
against
shoeszones laminated blue plastic facade

cocky as a tom cat
greeting
i cant see who

like the worlds his oyster
like the suns out 
like its los angeles
like hes steve freaking mcqueen
with a car accident knee

when all it is is londons cement floptide

but
theres
a
streetside
fog
here
that smells like life smells
that smells like childhood smells

smells like story books 
and adventure tv
where every kid has a torch
in their backpack
and a reason to use it too

and if you shut your eyes
there is almost no armour
there
at
all
and you can almost
see the stars you are
see the clockeye walls
see the courage of the flea

and hes probably ok
whoever the hell he is
mr hopalong by the shoezone
he is facing the day
with his head up
in
another
uk
morning
divided for conquer
and identical to itself

the morning is 
just another 
polaroid vignette
shining
darkly
in
a
market stall puddle

and we are all running
like flood alert rats are running
with 
the courage of the flea
thats
uncommented
unnoticed
every newspaper day

and the headline bile
is autogenerated offshore
and i wonder of the bees
the courage of the bees

and what shall we be
when they
lay
down
their
stripes forever
in one last pollen dusk

and
will
i
be
old
and
gnarly
one day
and tell a grandniece or two
how
i
saw
bees
coming and going that summer
from
the
hive
under
my back step

how i saw them come home
on the magnet lines
when the sun fell
in that long gone summer
when
i
still drank
still ran 
with the courage
of the flea

and i file 
more nothing-almost-something now
into another binary crevice
in
the
dirt online

i write and file
under the frozen birdshit faces
of all those statues
of all those dead men
mounted on dead horses
on
all
those
mighty
plinths 
high
above the fag butt gutters
where plastic bags
fly like art
on groundwind

i write and file posey
in the grime of the mirror world
we made in our unthought image

its pandoras echo chamber
built of wire and fools gold

so i write and file soft reports
disposable and unrushed
like
li po
and
buckowski 
setting fire to their folded posey
by
the
river
sharing a bottle
in their shirtsleeves
watching
the
drains
overspill

li po buckowski  
lazy enough
to
wait
wait
wait

and wonder
how is it people get worked up
enough
to war

or a backstab hashtag

but fail
to see
the courage of the flea
the leaving of the bee

and theyre blindsided easily
by the 
shoezones blue laminated facade
and
they
dig
deeper
into
the
broadband riverways
dense with
fragile ships
flying flags
of
new shoes
and
photoshopped abs

from library--of--babel.blogspot.co.uk

ANTS DISRUPTED

mon AM
and
theres
fog
come
down
on the f-town barricades

and it hides us
and trees point up
and i feel the 

           e       o u
heavy &  n   b   l     s
               u 

arcade fire nostalgia

that
is
autumns emptying

autumn -
an enema artist
painting
in all the shades of brown

~

and all the 
quilted 
regular 
assassinated 
street joes
are
ants
disrupted

by the pilot lights of old mystery 
the still flickering half happened 
Could Have Beens but Never Was

~

and
this autumns fag butts 
become
last autumns fag butts 
become
all autumns fags butts
in
a
spun bunched ball of sad brown gold
tugging 
on 
all 
the 
hearts
left
swinging outside of summer ribs

~

and sometimes a real light will glow

a traffic light
like an envy moon 
or a greggs bakery window
misted with cooking

and
then
some ants disrupted
will
have
some living target 
to head their meat toward

~

autumn -

its teaching us how to die

if
we
would
only look
and 
walk and learn 
in its bronze rot
and
read aloud 
from its falling yellow library
of
almost
almost
mulch
wet now before the dry grave

~

cos the fogs come down
on f-towns barricades
and the worlds
become only
phonebox big

it rings with remembrance
where you thought to forget 

its memories calling
them that were impossible 
in the cooked drull of summer
and
them that were invisible
in the perfumed hilarity 
of 
that gone and trivial 
lamb bang spring

from qt.com

YAWNING SKY

theres small gems in the rough salt
an LED gleam on a crocodiles back
i dig for a loose edge with a dull slate
nothing in my hands an animal never had
under pregnant eggs and the yawning sky

and a fog is coming down / its horror film dense
its the steaming factory lube in my atomic clock

and under the yawning sky we all fall and happen
its an opera of dirty cotton / its italic birds

and 
i                            up
wonder                    me
                    pull   
   that it doesnt

into its horrible absence / apparently eternal

cows by caitlin herd, oils 2009 from artistsdaily.com

MONDAY POPS

THE ACCIDENTAL JIVE

i
trust
in
the
coincidence
and
accidental jive
in
the
back-brain autopilot 
under 
the 
erosion and fog
to
make
my
scribbles
call 
sense their friend


CAFFEINE FREE

how thin the world is
without
stimulants
in
the 
morning mug

a detox / a fast
willful suffering

calling 
out 
to
a new peace
to
swell
my
world buddha plump


LOOK INSIDE

i
write
open
windows
you
can
look
in
and
see
my disguises
folded
on
shelves