ONE VEIL OR ANOTHER

like

an

alien

&

taxonomic ivy

blooming subtly 

up

the

stains & masonry

of 

your amalgam memory 

age 

grows

a 

special perspective

that i find impossible 

to competently impart

something about 

the importance of coincidence

the myth of confidence

& the ley lines of the soul

or is that just me ?

anyway
time takes one veil or another

off for dry cleaning
if youre doing it right 

& watching too

COBWEB ELBOWS

i worry
that memories
may degrade
with each needy use

like a favourite jumper

already skeined thin

at its cobweb elbows

& i worry i dont 

husband them enough

like maybe

i should be

~

but still

the fallen garden apples

gone sweet with rot 

& all the flies there

conjure crystal 

childhood moments

of paddington ringer t's

& moccasin slippers

gone slippy & shiny underneath

& still 

the supermarket shower gel

of jungle & sport & sage 

mirrors those mornings long ago

when things

were different

enough to count

TRYING TO TAMP THE MADNESS DOWN

at night
dreamy
but not sleeping
i feel like 

i am living 

in someone elses memory

i mean that how i phrased it
thats as close as i could get

it feels different now 

even opposite now

as the grey dawn creeps in

showing the scratches on the sky

~

& inside that nights

strange peaceful exploration 

i wrote on an envelopes flap -

i am in the photographs yes

like some kind of 

understated advocate

trying to tamp

the madness down

CHINO'D IN AN ARMCHAIR 198?

 

the bungalow cul-de-sac 

is flat as a playmat

& the static house dad  

watches sports tv

& does not turn his head

~

& chino'd in an armchair

under dormer corner stairs

you wait in the strange 

& finger comb gel glue

out your flop flick hair

~

youre shit-disco bound

if you can stick it

there are no drugs yet

& your hand sweats up 

your lonely ten pound note 

Photo by Jonathan Farber on Unsplash

CAFE NUPTIALS, WITH NOTES

sometimes
what i do is pick a title
before i written anything

i write where i am
& add a word on whim

so here goes 
Cafe Nuptials -

~

Cafe Nuptials

i half recognise someone
but thats just being out

( disregard that - false start )

~

Cafe Nuptials

i carry a tray 
for a lady 
struggling on sticks 

her husbands gone off somewhere 

they do that i say

me having gone off somewhere myself

&
in a booth
my 
tired 
leaking
meat
googles news

( bit better - should stop here )

~

carboloading
i try to remember 
if my 
'vote' 
was ever 
'successful'

when thatcher was voted out ?

when thatcher was voted out
Its All Over Now Baby Blue 
played out of student hatchbacks 
on another pub-side lunch-run

( i didnt stop - 
  burped a memory pop instead )

~

& 
with 
the 
homeless osmosis wisdom
of 
my 
designated years

i
know
now

that democracy 
is / was 
an aim 
an Ideal 

eroded in white bread slices 
ever since rights were hard won

( i swell with faux profundity )

~

protesters are banned 
from the capital streets
&
a gold toilet is stolen

& i think - 
green is the colour
our children shall miss the most 

(eco-conscious blab plus headlines )

~

&
i think i am maybe against borders
&
the bomb-bang lands
are only miles away

just air between us

consensus & air

( basic philosophy & maps )

~

swelling 
with
faux profundity 

in 
the 
cafe nuptials

of coffee & world & me

i stroke the blind glass 
under a false ceiling

( slip in the title & some commonality )

~

this glass
we touch
we cant SEE thru . . .

& 
i feel like 
i am 
at the end of something

& i dont mean just this coffee

( repetition & sign off )

from foodspotting.com

SPAM SHOW

them-
feeding
their
time
into
the
memory
blender

me-
watches
from
the
other
side
of
the
farm

you-
read
a
hundred
meanings
or
none

us-
haunted
spam
show

with
no
good
ending

from youtube.com

WORD POP

i write without rage
my tired eyes are destroyed flotillas

i
am
unbent / forced calm in the fiery force

under
hallucinatory
memory
spume 

 

 from illustratedfirstworldwar.com - battle of jutland

MEMORY ORPHANS

memories walk odd in gossamer shadows
from tea trees 
and conifer
and
what i saw there in the dappled puddles
and
what you saw there on the bleached kerbs
can never agree

memories walk odd like orphans
like i dreamt them
and grafted them onto photo's
or 
made them up on a bad hangover saturday
covered in gin sweat and horror
and
tho
maybe
wrong and created in blank solitude
i encourage them to haunt me
afraid of . . . WHATEVER . . .
if
i
let
them go