SKY DIVER

imagine jumping off
your chosen high rise

& falling you notice how awesome it is
inside the exhilaration of free fall

& you think this is it

this is what was missing all along

& you realise too late

with regret & sorrow & love

surrounding you 

like cartoon birds

that you should have been 

a sky diver all along

CANING WAS TRAINING

all the caning was training

for the hard second half

the training & caning made


regrets impossible
&
hindsight forever a lie

DEPENDS IF ITS MALNUTRITION, HYPERTHERMIA OR WONDERFUL LONGEVITY THAT GETS ME

on my deathbed 

will i regret
not worrying more 

about the gas bill ?

or will i 

be thankful 

that i wrote down -

'on my deathbed 

 will i regret 

 not worrying more 

 about the gas bill ?'

as

part

of

some

kind

of

effort

poem

thing

THE EVE OF CONSTRUCTION AND THE GIN FIELDS

life
was
a
shit
and
a
fuck
and the midnight got inside you
like the cold got inside you
and it spoke to you
and it said no bro no
not this lifetime

~

but there was a freedom there wasnt there ?
in the silence
and in the nothing

and that band sang

oh that magic feeling
nowhere to go

and you clung to that
thru the eves of destruction
out on the cigarette corners
counting up your telephone coins 
stood at the cabstand alone
with something to drink
but nowhere to go

~

and it got deeper inside of you
and it ate its way back out of you

from 
d
o
w
n 
where regret ferments

and the hard ice you were
achieved a difficult spring

~

and you got inside each other
and you built a metaphorical
solid gold home together

and it said go bro go
its time for some summer

and all the irrigated gin fields
were 
sown
with
enough
sunflower

to weather
the sickness dusk

from amazon.co.uk

TWO POP POPS

1.

carving steel and ice

from the medicated sludge

is
king
mission
one


2.

no regrets ?  lucky . . .

. . . you / rose glass rear view mirror ?

( or )

 plans
 for
 next
 time
 round ?

from thehuffingtonpost.com

KITCHEN RADIO ON . . .

doubt

the BIG doubt

that
all
this
daily earthly stumbling and thinking and doing
is
nothing

at

all

like the pain all the way to death and back
like
the
hot ice knives
of
photo album regret
like
mortal mistakes on the graveyard path

that doubt/that BIG doubt

kill it
with 
the truth of new turds
and
the holy swear rumble
of
rock 
and 
roll