IN THE SKYS GREAT BOWL

the cats rolling onto his back
legs hanging / eyes watching

showing the trap of claws & teeth

baited by thick soft belly fur

of course i fall for it

~

its midnight & the lawn is wet

stars out in the skys great bowl

& the solar storms flares  

show up as nothing here

but i stay awhile / hoping 

they might / even invisible

be rewiring my brain

FRESH BAKED CRUMBS

was feeling
well grim

about it all

till the sun came out

like spilled yellow paint 

& my wife came home
with fresh bread

we ate on the bedspread
by the sleeping cat

miniature snores
& impossible fur

flaked with fresh baked crumbs

CREATES AN ILLUSION

a boxfresh outfit
or as boxfresh as i get
helps clear out
the fog upstairs
& creates an illusion
of order & prep & pep

until the cat
gets hungry
& gets friendly
& rubs his shedding summer coat
all over my twill wale
& puma suede

no matter
i am only sitting in the morning chair
sunlit on the houseplants
& hair everywhere

SHINY HANDLE OF PRE-PLASTIC RESIN

'Man eats meat, and he grows fur.' 

Vasily Grossman



i fall open
like a book
at its well read 

& favourite pages

or i try to . . .

but everything flows 

& i give myself up

to the noise & the not

to the forever & the never

or i try to . . .

& zen nihilism reaches into the drawer

for a hand-me-down no-name kitchen knife

with a shiny handle of pre-plastic resin

&

slices my good ham thin

in a porterhouse dream

or it tries to . . .

DREAM FUDGE POP - THE STORE BAR

 

in 

waking 

retrospect

the bar looked like a department store

& that was fine

in that dream way

& the way dreams are

spirits & chicken & white goods
hazard stacked on the floor

lou reed lookalikes on the door

dressed transformer style

i thought

passable at least from afar

~

i am drinking again

but only dream-here

& only dreamed beer

no pain 

none

& none of the meatworlds whisky fear

~

& theres no screaming at all

when

the

bulls

pile

in

slo-mo funny 

passing on cherries but bagging fur

photo- Freedom Glares #2 from the Dagenham Archive

OUR ANIMAL

i get down
on the floor
where our animal is

tail &
fur &
claws &
all that

no teeth tho
&
funky breath

~

down here
on the floor
were our animal is

i am learning
by osmosis 

no time
is wasted
half so well