KEEL OF CRUMBS

& rain came
perpendicular & small
& i listened to the rain
& i thought a thought
& the thought thunk me

in
a
sunday mornings
keel of crumbs

soul itching
like a microdose tease

feet up

chow down

& wonder

REGULAR HORROR 8

monday morning dread 

took sunday hostage

made it a hollow unthing

with a shadow like the moon

~

then theres everywhere 

soft debris to salvage 

in the high hectic desert 

of the weeks electric blue

 

OLD ELECTRIC STOVE

sometimes when i sleep
my dead grandma is there
& she wants a cup of tea is all

& shes already sat comfortably

& when i wake sometimes
i smell the cooking
how she would do it

no not the cooking

but the hot metal
of the old electric stove
on for hours & hours & hours
on a sunday long ago

DOG BARKS IN A SILENT NEIGHBOURHOOD

the hoot of a train horn

funnelled down the grass banks

of litter & scrub & stubs 
&
the movie dialogue 

snappy & truncated 

by channel hoping hope

&
the dog that barks

in a silent neighbourhood

of a teenage sunday

&

the rave whistles 

shrill & bright

on the smoky festival wind

&

the cold hatchback motors 

turning over in coughs

on a frosty workaday dawn

remind me 

of the ambient album
found-sound collages

of the 90s

as opposed to

it working
the other way around

HOLLOW WHALES

lifetimes
spent
building

cold stone carcasses

control hq 101

~

insurance . . . just in case

timeshare 
for the dead

~

holy hollowed whales
dredged
from
the
sea
of
the
sky

wood benches
queue & face
a
bleeding likeness
of
nonviolent 
revolutionary

franchised

~

bells ring
high up
in the
neck bones

calling sundays 
desperate fiction

pic by matthew christopher

ITS TUESDAY (MORNINGS AND DREAMS)

MONDAY MORNING

monday morning always tastes of monday morning
when the bedside siren calls time on oblivion
and my dreams turn b&w in the neon smack of day
and struggling to understand i lock them away

and they wait 
on a crack 
in the light 

between responsibility and habit
to run their mad riot again


COFFEE AND JUICE

monday morning tastes like that metallic burr of strong medication
even
tho
we
are
off
and
laying in
with no vet panic or auto repair for a change

a subsonic bell rings a slice of loss 
without time to be noticed

before coffee
and juice
obscure with floods

animal sense and the residual derelict party of dreams


WEEKEND

mondays barcode is smudged

my mind bleeps NO like a posties machine
in consecutive failure to understand

after 
saturdays free tease

and 
sundays broadmoor 
    
    exercise yard
     
      blue 
      chug

from crowthorneheritage.co.uk

PICTURE OF SUNDAY

stretch my spine wilt out
like
a
tabby done napping 

sunday morning's a rehab drug . . .

out 
the 
finger smeared window
the
street is empty as anything
and
i contemplate another long slog under pale winter sun

grim due
in
the 
given stare shadow of dead conifers 
and
retard smile
for 
the 
pink drift of fazed apple blossom

i
browse the western ruse
and
keep
the boar rant headlines
out
my
mind

123RF Headline Stock Photos and Images