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

 

CANING WAS TRAINING

all the caning was training

for the hard second half

the training & caning made


regrets impossible
&
hindsight forever a lie

& IN HINDSIGHT FREE

the
fresh & glorious
summer funk
of just-cut-grass

ballooooned

across the school field
in the lie of the sunshine glee

~

water fountain running warm
in the demountable shadow

we ran in plimsoles
kicking straw
&
in hindsight
free

SICK NOTE MANTRAS

1. CATS AND OLD MEN

dont
write
the
whole day off yet

i say to myself
every cracked curtain morning
feeling like a ferrous metal

this is my sick note mantra
i speak it out loud
to the sheets and floating dust
feeling like the saline water
in tescos wafer thin ham

and the cat is there
his paws and claws
in my cheek in my lip
his big round eyes
saying ME ME NOW ME ( IAOW )

and out on the street 
the old guys
in beige again 
go out for papers 8 am
they're like clockwork again
like national service
half crowns in their hatbands
mumbling daily mail headlines
out by the gatepost

dont write the whole day off yet
i say to myself

give its chill beginning
a sunshine chance

the pillow will be here still later on
i make a pm date with it in my mind

i might feel
a little better might'n i anyway
a little less like a polluted moon
after some coffee

my pills

and
some 
juice


2. POSSIBILITIES

and 
theres 
a 
chance 
isn't there

that i might write something
in a shadow of gold leaf
on a gutter hubcap
if i unfold from out of bed
an upward cutlery ape  
in the supermarket zoo

and 
theres
a 
chance 
isn't there

that someone who may not be born yet
may see it may read it one odd day
on a museum piece server 
under a leaking tin can megacity dome

and they might halfway feel something
and they might catch a glimpse of something
and maybe then write something themselves

something better 
without tricks on loan

in whatever biowired plastic AI dream
we
have
left under the mercury clouds
for
them


3. SHADOW OF GOLD LEAF ON A GUTTER HUBCAP ?

we all live 
in the spaces
above our shoes
the windsails pulled down
trimmed into the next seasons
tryhard catwalk conceptions

the catalogue lie of polyester folds

hides our animal ghost
our hot breath relegated  
in the toothless tv land
of our reluctant white plaque minds

and out there in the day in the world
the carpet the cement 
the macadam and tile
steel and glass
are exile
from
the
meat
of forest earth

from the mail online

ORWELLIAN RIPTIDE

what if its the clouds
that
are metal 
and concrete

the sky that is polished glass

and the ground under our boots
that
is nebulous

like
soup
like
steam

a swamp of passive inaction
        
        of the dormant anger
        of inherited guilt
        
        of decades 
        of distraction and denial

sucking and writhing
with
dangerous
deep
orwellian riptides

from forum.davidicke.com

I AM NOT DIANE FOSSEY; ANTHROPOLOGY POPS

1.

our
ancestor 
chimps 
proved themselves alpha
by 
waving branches to look bigger
beating 
their 
breasts
and 
chucking shit at contenders

like
we
might 
drive round in a big red bus
with
a
lie
painted
on
the
side


2.

we
forage

we
fuck

hooting at ugly showbiz

as
always


3.

our
ancestor chimps
fought
for 
females

ensured a future for their genes

and
for
endless
grooming
by
the
subservient 

tho
we 
are 
now
full of ourselves
our 
bridges / science / spaceships
our 
huge brain pans / language / self-awareness

we
are
also
not
so
different 

at all

hanuman langour monkey 

by kendra haste, 

painted galvanised wire