BABY JOHANSEN ASKS #2

 

papa ?

yes son ?

you know carol on the corner 
sold their mobility scooter
to pay bills from thames water ?

that rhymes son ! 

you could be a poet when you grow up

but papa ?

yes son ?

how would that help ?

. . . well . . .

ANGER LIKE A CHEAP MATCHSTICK

the poet was furious
with the publisher
over a missing full stop *

oh to own such fury
such certainty & fight

to release like hounds

 

well my anger eats itself

like the sulphur & filler

in a cheap matchstick head

a blink of flare

then a push of smoke

& moisture on the run

like the frustration tears

of a lost little boy

 * the poem was a single full stop

   at the bottom of an empty page

   by Vsevolod Nekrasov

CATCHING A WEAK THERMAL

i sat down with my notes
to write about modern england
& see if its england still

i was going to start with the trains
& the fat metaphor potential there

but i slid into reminiscing
about hair gel & untethered pop

~

this is how i fail as a poet -

i am so firehosed by the yesterdays 

i will catch a weak thermal to anywhere

& this is how i succeed as a poet -

by answering the trades entrance bell

& catching weak thermals to anywhere

AUTO POPS & STREET OBSERVATION

wallow in your time

do not avert your eyes

sea rises
in
recompense
for the
auto fish


~


&
up
the
road

at no 8

they always leave 
the front door open
when
its
time
to
argue & yell & swear

hear them from my back lawn
when im counting daisies


~


& 
the garden
is like a 
story book gypsy garden

where the story book gypsy 
has gone & died
under his own blue sky

&
no one came
&
no one knew

but i see it
see it in the dust
see it in the dirt
see it in this new flu

BRAIN TRUST

a poet ? a writer ?
a cold laugh 
comes unconvincing
out
weird sick belly 
when sat at
ashy AM keys-
fingers are thumbs / thoughts stunted replays-
night street lights
gone power-cut out
on
my
borrowed accelerator brain-trust

no juice for weeping
but
mind for waiting-
later 
will burst yesterday efforts out of anemia 
introverted acoustic goes german electro
as
i feed their ask 
for 

more 

 

 from dc.wikia.com

PURPLE FLOWERS

the dawn is late

all airbrushed aluminium clouds
and 
pink star war laser bursts

two birds fly past each other
in
the
silent
watercolours

i wonder like a poet - 
do they even know each other?
and
all
that
implies . . .

hospital staff arrive
smiling at the break in the cloud
with
a
bunch
of purple flowers and butterflies
for
a
tall
strong
bereaved
head nurse

sproketpf wallpaper

TELL THE CHILDREN

dont be a poet

i tell the children

or BE a poet

but youll have to put your balls on the page
where
they get caught by staples

so dont be a poet
be an earner instead
cos theres no money here

or BE a poet

if you can be mad and wrong
and write down the truths
that
a
year or two later
can still shake you
in
another
typing morning
sending your words across the world
in the hope theyll meet paper

we need poets

i tell the children

but it doesnt have to be your job

or BE a poet

i tell them/cos every job finds its man

and if the world burns your edges
like paper thrown in the fire
and the contents or your bathroom cabinet
can
fascinate you
for
a
lost hour
and
nothing that bubbles in the clock ticking surf
is
concrete unless you hold it tight
or
write
its
madness down in bursts like epilepsy

then
be
a
poet
and catch your balls in the staples