REMAINED STARTLINGLY QUAINT

in the
high street
opticians
i am processed

in a sterile cubicle
&
the woman behind the desk there
40 going on 60
whispers with an old school respect & tact

are you on benefits ?

& i am not amused
so much as interested
like being in a museum
or visiting a village
thats remained
startlingly quaint

I WANT TO BE SHOES

when i grow up

i want to be

a humble & revered

old painting

of worn-in shoes

with always a queue of fodder 

for my people-watching pleasure

& long long

quiet quiet

museum peace nights

OFFCUT POPS 1 - SAWS

the history rings 
in a record tree
thats never cut down

still
go
round

silent argument
layered over
offered opinion
invisibly coexisting

safe from saws forever
on a 
peerage
croquet
grouse house
lawn

~

the found tumour
inside killers
bonesaw mind

filed in crime museum backroom
under 'satan gland'

and uncut antiheroes 
tread water
undiagnosed
in the riptide public pool

~

we-
kill 
to know

they-
learn braille
on
death row

crash helmets gas grill 
and juiced striptease law
saw down incendiary boughs

that
fuel our 
monkey fire

from zmescience.com

TRILOGY VOTE-POPS

FRIDAY

i
brim over 
with
horror drama
and
i
say

  goodbye sweet progress
  at least
  i saw 
  your face

i am silent and sick

my
street
an
ancient projection

from
the
museums movie archive



WEEKEND

tears dry

straws are grasped

dominoes totter

but
trees are STILL green
the
lawn STILL needs mowing
in
the rain
thats
the same

and
we
watch
a 
rerun make-over show

on
purpose



VEIL LIFTED

veil lifted

pull it down pull it down

cos
suddenly we are aware 
         we are naked
         and
         we 
         are
panic-bluffing

that
its
ok

when its not

and
our balls are in awful danger
on
the
sharp and spiky streets

from truthsinlife.blogspot

BEFORE THE ALARM

up 
before 
dawn
i hear the haunted noises the night left out

the slow honk of marsh geese
    black dragon shapes 
    against 
pale clouds
like
    photo
        negatives 
or 
peeling paint patches
    on
    back
    alley plaster

i feel Pause and Potential . . . world in a museum

fog horns sad with travel call bored with warning
    and
    theres a low mandrax moan
    of
    working steel
    from
    the
    new cranes
giant
    like sci fi
        on 
        the
new dredged banks

 

from troyjohnstone.com