ROSE TINT

the president of the united states
that clean cut charmer
is laid back & logical
& sane & healthy
& vibrates with integrity

in this movie i am watching from the 1990s

hollywood is such sweet escape sometimes

~

& i get it now
how the oldsters

get attached to their stories

why not
watch the glass people frolic
in their 2d sun ?

in the face of decrepitude
blunt loss
& the smoking detritus of nuked dreams

INTELLIGENCE FRAG POP

all the agent report
'...obliterated sources...'

as we watch 

our games shows & stories
in the wifi sop

DO YOU THO ?

i give afternoon tv

all the progress

the mornings fresh air 

gave me

it fills the spaces
i cant look at

with stories 

i wont believe

& while i grant it
credit & thanks

i know its a tool box
& never a church

FRAG 7

you hear stories

of people who die

because they couldnt & wouldnt

cry out for any help



why cant we hit the rooftops

when its raining black inside ?

BRICK WALL MERCY

ham & spam
slapped on grinding bone

you shave it
you clothe it
you take it out there - they make you

& when you cant 

cant cant cant 

just cant anymore

they dont give any fucks

& at the brick-wall mercy 

of the medical charlatans

& the witch-hunt policy wonks

you become a bitter cog

a tarnished pinwheel

diminished in the numbers law

&

lost in the brown envelope rain

photo - No Choice from the Dagenham Archive

POP SALAD VOL2

i lose myself
in the stories
in the glass

they power up my downtrain

my rust might even shine


~

escape - what a word
its smooth
but with a sharp end

its punctuation & finality

no, wait - 

its achievement & permission

photo Sky Over The Bungalow Line courtest of the Dagenham Archive

DELIRIUM TAPAS VOL2

 fascists get in thru libertys abscess   
 those infection corridors               
 those abandoned offices                 

 of swing & spin & ghosts                

 function creep crawls                   
 on the real germs dismay                

 wet market fructose                     
 in everyones plastic trough             


 ~ 


 lost in the american stories   
 my fable edges                 
 burred & blurred               
 on the skerry pier             

 jutting atlantic wise          

 out across over there            

POEM POP