KICK

i put the record on
& its bright & right there

& full of a memory

movie-sunny saturday

train to the coast

sta prest trousers

(knock-offs from behind the market

 follow the path

 of rain stained cardboard 

 & heavy bin stink

 & go up a staircase like a secret

 with the smoothest wooden handrail

 & loosest carpet runner)

& hair gel like shellac

gone fly-away by lunch

nineteen eighty something

school almost done

BLUE LIGHT WEEKEND (A MULTIPLE CHOICE POP)

my 

memories

are vignetted 

with encroaching brown

like 

a; park bench dusk

b; cataract smears

c; a dirty protest

or

d; the smoke damaged

   field trip

   polaroids

   we found in the geography room

   after all the school arson

   that blue light weekend

NO & WTF

tea break

tennish
hospital
round the table
steaming mugs
crossword book open
radio two on

& rose pipes up
says
remember when you were at school
& theyd have a day
when theyd put electrodes on your head
& put on those weird films
before doing a quiz ?

no
we say
absolutely not at all

wtf ?

THE THINGS I CARRIED, A SCHOOL POP

in the pockets of my shorts

was
a plastic 

speedy gonzales

i chewed off 

a gifted key ring
&

a folded handkerchief

too big for me

i didnt like to use

&
an orphan mortice key
that i wanted to be magic
but knew it never would

COLD & NAKED WERE YOU THERE ?

those hymns
& odd songs
we
sang
at
school

i hear them still
in the smell of mowed grass

~

& the spaces between
the liminal sheds
source essential ballast
from the tender stash
of
the child-minds
soft chaos
braving school

ON A MUSTY GREY ENGLISH NOWHERE DAY, A SCHOOL MEMORY POEM

french class
single tables
no windows
language like a wall

on chair backs
ski jackets
wet with rain
& the heatings on

sat behind brett
who leans back
all the way back
so heads upside down

& he dribbled from his mouth
so it would go up his nose

then he sang
from the top ten
i remember it was
c'est la vie

SUCH A SCHEDULED & DEFINITVE & MOURNFUL STOPPING

those tv show ending songs & themes

that played out over the rolling credits
held a deep & impossible sadness

& an intense hope
for a last joke
in a last scene
after the last names ascended

& it didnt really matter 

if the show was good or not

& it didnt really matter
if i understood it or not
only that i could hide there 

inside its scripted cloak

it helped hold back

anxietys electricity slurry

& dooms gloaming worry
of going to school

that fucking zoo

the next poxy day

POOR EGGSHELLS

   from our car
accidentally clusterfucked 

in the suv school run

   i see the

fragile uniformed minds

clot up at the learning gates

more bricks for the wall

crossing the abacus plane

   poor eggshells

would that our plastic factories

had made you soft feathers instead

PARKA & MITTENS

condensation between 

the double-glazing

& the window proper

every winter morning

is damp nostalgia

is a parka & strung mittens 

is a pink elephant bookmark

made from a used greeting card

~

& too a summer pencil gift

in blue & black

with a rounded end

for telephone dialling

as a sun-out flip side

HEAVY WEATHER ETHER

 

i file & post 

         i dump & report 

 

codex expositions 

         from my furious note-jags

as half-pop bones 

         in the heavy weather ether

 

         it 

         is 

         the 

         opposite 

         of 

         school

~

i remain still 

so very glad 

my schools out forever

that i shout 

L O S E R S 

from the car 

at the backpack kids 

walking 

their 

cornershop classroom

to & fro 

A BOOK TOO YOUNG - POPS

1.

but 
it 
was 
all 
so

DRENCHED

in sadness

an empty bird table 
in early winter dawns *



2.

strange snacks 
in after school
armchair bunker

reading a book
too young for me
i had read before




3.

the sick tease
of downtime

slim pickings
&
less fruit

cliche escape
in 
classic retreat




4.

school demanded
&
streets were anxious

i was razed
condos on hold

in the fog & razors
of sepia mist & stone

from healthline.com

*

i would feed the birds

it was therapy

i cherished every block-paved step 

small freedom on the garden path

before the exposure of school 

TOO WET TO WIN

too-late 
gutless 
no-balls 

thin menthol vape
in 
a 
crossfire hurricane

whicker
sticker
peeling
on their
wooden 
bumpers

~

plot without grit 
behind 
the
polytechnic 
bike sheds

wet with good intentions
snowed under the tabloid bile

plot for plots sake
&
grandchild
credibility

~

moral victory
is a 
sofa-found peanut

in 
the 
dark arts triumphant
undermine
&
sell off
belly ache rampage

of
disunited kingdom 

ungreat britain
cant spell
move on

from spinditty.com

VAINGLORIOUS PRODUCTIONS

unremarkable & amazing
all at confusing once
the
sun
slides
down
AGAIN

a closedown tv credit
Vainglorious Productions
in the smashed orange sky

~

i feel / i KNOW
hes smug as a bastard 

hes lifes regular miracle

& HE knows 
how conspicuous 
his absence will be

he thinks 
hes letting
nightmares
frolic free

~

& the moon ?
shes the PEOPLES moon

our hippy liberal aunt

cool as mcqueen
&
too cool for school

some nights
she doesnt 
even show
at all

from pinterest.es

ALIVE ALIVE

rec ground
in
big weather

we held our coats open
& caught the wind
& sailed with it

& all the trees 
were shaking elemental

& i felt 
alive alive

13 ? 14 ?

spectrums
&
unattainable
sportswear 

c&a ski coats

&

the 
bloody custody
lie of school

from shelflife.co.za

LITTLE CONTINUITY IN THE BAG OF ME

i
am
a
soft worn crinkled
leather duffle

underexposed polaroids inside

with
gum
gone
hard

~

we can build 
a patchwork movie
for laughs
if you like

of an xmas gone
of school day ghost haunts 
of bottle shops & off-peak bars

of dawn streets 
with the sweepers out
&
ignored knock knocks galore

if kosher continuity
dont bother 
your bated breath

&
your
4g
is wobbly
or 
down

from elizabethito.com

MOUSE MADRIGAL 3 - SCHOOLS OUT FOREVER

SPRING NOISE

well those lawn mowers
can only whine or be silent
and when those lawn mowers are silent
they lay like fed alligators
or like unwound clockwork
waiting to whine again

waiting to chop turf into paste again
into school sportsday smells again

( memories of melting macadam
  steel chair legs sinking
  into the black crust
  while the country dancing is on  
  and at the end of our street
  a cloud of ladybirds
  blocks out the thunderstorm sun )

or they tick and tick dont they
when theyre finished
and theyre left in the shade
when theyre finished
going tick and tick arent they
metal cooling off exertion
away from the sun

i like them best like this i think
its like behind the intermission curtain
of a poundshop steampunk puppetshow

or it could be morse code couldnt it
the tick ticking could be morse code
and they could be saying
finished now back in the shed please

~

birds automatically broadcast
incredibly full of themselves
voluntarily in a cage
built of immediate chatter

like kids in a schoolyard
suddenly here
filling the air
an unfiltered yelling machine
with 100 moving legs

then theyre gone
theyre gone again
theyre herded off in a blink
gone again in the time 
it takes me
to take a piss

~

i breath deep
i stretch out on the bed
i attempt to ground myself
like the sheets are earth
in a west country meadow

i am a witness on a budget
quiet in the face 
of a quadraphonic world

the curtains are cracked
for a slice 
of white sun
for a glimpse 
of green 
turned silver

but is too bright now
but i know too
that it will also 
be gone 
too soon

godiva mower 1920s / from oldlawnmowerclub.co.uk

MOANOLOGY 2

i got too many computers.  
dont know HOW i got so many computers.
i been GIVING them away.

try telling that to a ten year old me as he watched in horror and awe at S***** P**** kicking his vic20 to death on the school yard concrete.  
that was 198? - deep in teacher strikes and the schools on fire ! grey smoke damaged text books to learn about crop rotation and the War of Some Roses for the rest of our school sentence.

you HAVE to go too.  
dont you ?  
illegal not too.  
but after ?  
not allowed in AT ALL.  
i'd love to go sit at those crummy desks.  
walk those halls.  
remembering.  
and feeling relief its all over.

i did once.  
after the pub.  
we hoped a fence.  
walked round the buildings.  
tried a window.  
unlocked.  
we climbed in.  
sat in our old seats as best we could remember them.  
had a nose up the corridor.  
them left and went to smoke weed on the hockey pitch.

silent alarm wasnt there ?

see blue lights flashing off concrete walls.  
torches swinging round the blocks.  
we went off the hockey pitch to the hedgerows next to the farmland. crouched down.  
watching.  
SO pleased we'd left. 
and not sauntered deeper in.

cant go back.

anyway.  
computers.  
i use them but still i get a cramp up my back stairs that i have to WRITE out with pencils and paper.

stationary.  
it even smells good.

and the best place to keep books is the bathroom.  
did you know that ?  
stops them drying out and the glue going dry and yellow and wrong like all my old Bond paperbacks.

from www.thebookbond.com

LIFE IS

IT ALL MAKES ME ALMOST CRY

the wallpaper
i choose for my new room
when
we
moved
in 1979

makes me almost cry 
when i think
of it now

the nails driven
into the partition wall
for airfix models
i 
wasnt 
really 
into

makes me almost cry
when i think
of them now

that toy motorbike
i got for xmas
that wasnt a toy
but
a
model
and not for play

makes me almost cry 
when i think 
of it now

the sundays 
out on my bmx alone
holding onto
the weekend freedom
before
bewildering
compulsory
school

makes me almost cry
when i think 
of them now

the toy garage
on my boxroom bedroom floor
that could have been anything
before the lights went on

make me almost cry
when i think 
of it now

the plastic ice lolly molds
we used to put orange squash in
and
then let it melt
on the kitchen backstep
cos
it
tasted
better
that way

almost make me cry
when i think 
of them now

the trailer 
i would crawl under
and the laurel tree
i would hide in
hoping for adventure

makes me almost cry
when i think 
of them now

the tall pear tree i would climb
out the front
and sit on the high brick wall there
hidden
but
seeing
everything

makes me almost cry
when i think
of it now

all the tears
i shed
on sunny afternoons
mad
with
ennui
and
weird fear unexpressable

makes me almost cry 
when i think
about it now

chart pop from the early 1980s
when i got my own radio
and
listened
to
radio 1
after 
bewildering
compulsory 
school

hardly make me almost anything anymore
cos
the
endless useless radio repetition
has
taken
all
meaning 
away
forever

and that makes me glad
when i think
of it now