Showing posts with label retro. Show all posts
Showing posts with label retro. Show all posts

Monday, 1 September 2025

LIKE SUNLIGHT




progress is retro
in these timpani days
&
tho there
may be
a void
in us

i am sure 
it can shine
like sunlight
on a branch
on a tree
in the shade








Friday, 17 June 2022

THE WAY THIS IS GOING PT 2

 



the way this is going
is -

my dreamed of novel

Backwater Pain Factory

will be two sides of a4

dense prose but large font


~


till then -

transhumanist 
technocrats
build condos for the nanobots 
in 
abandoned bitcoin mines

& retro hobos
shout cultural appropriation
at
anyone dodging
escalating fares 
on 
the tumbledown tracks uk










Tuesday, 25 May 2021

THREE HAIKU & A BIRD 1




STORM


a wet cat shelters

the storm lasts one thunder long

righteous 
   binmen 
   strike






TRICKY 
COMMODORE


brand new is retro

this spring air -
                 it smells of years

hit shift & run/stop






DECONSTRUCTED


announce the weather

describe cat folly 
         &
         now

       resolution










photo Fence Finch With Twig from the Dagenham Archive




Monday, 8 September 2014

LOCKED IN A GROOVE




saturday AM Aldi opening time

    at the carts
    stands
    a throwback / a resilient retro rocker
locked in the same groove 
    for decades

    a head full 
        of       
        Charlie 
        Feathers

he has a towering white quiff
scraped up out of thin hair - plastered lines 
    climbing 
    up from his ears

he is all in pale denim
and
under his neat turn ups
is two clear inches of ribbed white sock
    and
    an
        old
        mans
            shuffle

wheres he been ? and whats he seen ?
fish hooks behind leather lapels 
    on
    a
    saturday night Triumph rally
    struggling with petrol rationing ?
or
    the
    same
suburban working mans clubs of flat soapy ales
    for
    50 years
    stubbing out woodbines 
    on the same 
    bar lino ?

he survived 
    hippies punks skidkids faux-romantics 
    skaheads and skins and casuals and baggies 
his
LOOK
survived - 1956 says his quiff 6 inches high
    rigid
        in the car park petrol breeze
        and the 
            fast food smell 
            coming in from the market

        i am timeless it says


his face is collapsed / a matt finish
hanging on his old skull 
like a ball-bag shaved in the dark

    
    his face smudged on
    in
    wet
    charcoal 





from artrebels.com