MEDICINE WOODS

 

mornings dont feel like 

mornings used to

& night doesnt feel like 

night should

in 

the 

seventeenth generation mimeograph 

of insomnia & sickness 

in the thick of the medicine woods

THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS IS PAVED WITH UNFINISHED POEMS

i am the unproud owner 

of 128 unfinished poems
i will get to them
i will

i will find their form 

flexing in the ferberite

& set them almost almost free

its just the dense sickness 

is so profound these days

i feel made of 

ninety nine percent 

heavy water

~

& the power is out 

& the toll booths shut
down on damascus avenue
& its weird / things are weird
in ways its hard to say
like today
take next doors gardener

with his jeans & his tools
i never seen a more normal normal man

~

i am the proud owner 

of 127 unfinished poems
i will get to them
i will

WEARING COPPER JACKETS

the drs surgery
on-hold music
triggers a heavy sadness

&
all
the
other many morning times
i had to call & wait
rattle off
from out me
into 

the telephone firmament

wearing copper jackets
in the bumpstock milieu
&
waving their sad flags of sickness

SAFER THAN TREPANNING

in the heave & low-fro 

of the slow-sick fug-fog
my brain does whine 

its white noise moan

skull boxes it 

it is muddy

i cant even wail

~

i go live in my belly

its simpler 

more animal

roomier 

safer than diy youtube trepanning

DELIRIUM TAPAS VOL 11

me & sick friend

well

we compared symptoms

like twisted top trumps it was

tea stain

pee stain

on the tshirt shore

~


i hear neighbours dumb arriving

& i think HAND GRENADE

i hear news / see the sadness

& i think HAND GRENADE

& so on

curl round it / throw it / i dont know

they never even work out in video games

photo - Dumb Neighbours Probably (found photograph) from the Dagenham Archive

DULL HOOP FUCKERY

birthday looms 
need a dr

need my sickness
validated

on gp 
printout
paper

for
the
endless
dull hoop
fuckery

of the obstructionist
bureaucratic caper

from merriam-webster.com

BEFORE DAWN AND AFTER DUSK

its
good
before dawn

pills
coffee

vapour fills the room

and
music
and 
music
and

w r i t i n g

even if its only this
even if its never read

~

and
long
before
noon
i
fall
down

down
the
bricked up fenestration
of the longest day

hours last like 
chinese dynasties

down
into
the
plastic jesus
of
my
groinal chi

~

till after dusk
we batten the hatches down
we build a barricade of order
and
we
all
nest
together
like footnotes

and summon unconsciousness

please

the emotionmachine.com

BAD ORIGAMI

its flat

its all gone flat

i found a plane
where its all A4

i chase my toilet roll tail
in a line drawing of a room

maybe its this weird tea
or more ordinary sickness

but 
its 
all 
2D 
today

call the dr 
call an architect 

to unfuck
my bad origami

~

i put on
one of them
black discs
with the
mountainous grooves in

put it on 
with hands like veneer
like potato peel

and its anything but flat now
and
something alive
heavy like meat
is
climbing
my
spine
and i wince
and it all bursts out

into a painting
in the air

~

its
torn up 
folded up
opened out
into
unicorns
and
flying cranes

its the cathedral for everyone
real as hearts and farts

invisible music

and

bonhams
drums

from famousfix.com

TETRA PAK LOVE

from wikipedia

this is unusual

its night

as
it
would
be

and 
i am awake inside the opiates
i took for sleeping
and
i 
have 
become 
Full of Love for All of You

and
no one is more surprised than me
to
find this plastic zen
waiting
in
the 
midnight 

i am full of love for all of you
           in 
your paygrade sickness
and 
your demographic wealth

and no one is more surprised than me
when
i
think
thati 
am 
full of love for all of you

in 
your jury coincidence
in 
your postcode circumstance
in
your
  habitual 
    self 
      inflation
and
kneejerk 
self
d
e
f
l
a
t
i
o
n - i am full of love for all of you

                  and 

so it goes in the hub tonight

suck it up
my cutlery monkeys 

for tomorrow 
will
be
in
pieces 

from www.opiate.com

CIGARETTES

when youre busy
moving fast
with white noise behind your eyes
cigarettes seem to fit

cigarettes are fast

but slow it all down 
with sickness
and
they
become a luxury of the old life

a hangover

and
clearly poison 

from ct.gov

SOFT MASTERS

the
taut
puppet strings
tugged
by
the soft masters
of
love
and
the
splutter-cum of words
keep
me
off
the dark edges
where
sickness
has
its
breakfast

from wall4all.me