SKY PILOTS HOPES

i stand to wave 

to the silver darts 

that scratch the sky
&
i hope they nattered

taxiing for take off

about which battered hat  

i might pick out

& slap with elan

on my dome today

&

i hope they wish

they were down here

with us relaxing too

bare toes in the long grass

cinnamon rolls 

&

strawberry scones

coffee & cannabis & tea

TV IN THE AFTERNOON

the
thin
ascetic
face
of the hitman

is english pale
in the spanish bright

& his filter-less cigarette
looks big as bathroom plumbing

under the blankest rayban stare

~

let the camera

linger some

on the afternoon sun

at the seasons end

& on the tea

in the gazebo

& the people sat there

& the flowers

round about too

TEA STEAM TOUCHING

i wish
miles davis
was here
to approve
of my
untutored
three finger
piano dirges

i can picture him
sat with biscuits

in my parents living room

tea steam touching

his smoked blue wraparounds

nodding sagely 

at my light touch

on the pedals

&

all the mistakes i play

between the notes i dont

FERTILE FERTILE GREEN, A HISTORY POP

a long way 

       from the london carlton

ho chi min 

       digs a shitter trench

before the OSS 

       come by his cave for tea

his frailty 

       a plus somehow

       

in the rambunctious & in heat

       fertile fertile green 

       

PICASA MADRIGALS - NEW SILENCE

GEOFF INSIDE THE ATOMS OF THE MORNING

the dr was no help and the pain was only pain.
its commuter o clock.  
school run time approaching.  
theres no cabs on the thin land.
i limp to a cafe thats only five times further than i thought.  
the traffic is an insane whirl.
my hips only half on fire.
in the cafe i ask for coffee and sit down inside the morning, its radio chatter, extractor fan hum.
its like great boats are sliding by high above.
so in comes geoff.  
i havent seen him for 20 years.  
im guessing here.
it was back in the mall.  
back in the stores.  
we sold white goods, luggage, flat pack bookcases, stereos.
he worked mornings for no pay for an outreach program.  
i thought of him as a forever child.
other thought him a strange duckling.
i would lose half the morning saying no geoff, not there geoff, over here geoff, geoff GEOFF and he would laugh and tickle all the girls.
well now he sits two tables down and one over.  
hes clapping like a seal.
he looks the same.  
he dresses the same.  
shiny elbows new trainers.
he laughs like a child.  
he slaps the waitress on her bare arm in play.
he gets tea sausage beans.  
has a crisp new tenner.  
its the only thing in his wallet.
wondering what would happen if i said hello, i dont.
i tug my hat lower and sit still inside the morning and its similar atoms.
i feel needles radiating out from my palms.
the shine and colour and large windows of the cafe are like a fish tank.
geoff claps like a seal.  
his feet bounce up and down.  
he finishes his breakfast.  
slaps arms.  
uses his tenner.
carefully his change goes inside a zipped compartment.  
he leaves laughing.  
if he was dressed differently and i didnt know better i would think him a morning drunk.
over the street he opens the door to the pdsa charity shop.
i feel the drone of heavy ships high above. 
needles radiate out my palms.
20 years and geoff is still geoff.
i wonder if theres comfort there or not.
i pay.  
i leave.
going to the cab place i look in the pdsa.
geoff is behind the till with an unhappy woman.  
he puts his mug of brew down and claps like a seal.
i get a cab easier now.
home.  
no drone.  
no boats.  
not a fish tank.
inside the atoms of the morning.

from fishtankmaintenance.net

USED TO WAIT WEEKS

how 
to 

w r i t e 
        d
        o
        w
        n

these mornings ?

these mornings
peeking 
out from
englands 
back pocket 

at the low sun
at the sudden snow

at the next-day couriers
driving electric vans

rushing me
speciality tea

when we used to wait

 w
  e
   e
    k
     s

to sign our name

from vansdirect.co.uk

CALL THEM OUT

tear
the
ribbon
out
the
night

make a bow
with it
that looks
like a knot

pull
the
string
from
the  
day

make a knot
with it
that looks 
like a mistake

then throw them on the rug

and read them 
like tea leaves
like chicken bones

like those 
crease lines of coincidence
dug into your paws *

and then call them out
on
all
the absence
you
found
there

then bin the fuckers

or leave the fuckers there

in
case
you
read
them
wrong

from yourtango.com

* ( that you

   still today

   look at

   and wonder at

   with the vague hope

   of a childs superstition 

   you

   never

   fully shake -

   where is it ?

   wheres the money line ? )

DOORS

GET IN THE BACK OF THE VAN

i watched Bez
protesting
placed
in a police van

officer hand on his bucket hat head

slamming the back doors  
like a movie 

i didnt realise who he was

till later

when
he
was
doing
the
bicycle monkey dance
with his maracas 
on the reunion stage

and the police
were
breathing in
free
reefer

behind me


COMBINATIONS RESET
TO A BAND
OF MONOCHROME ZEROES

when the door is opened
to honest-to-death admission

its like a spring shower
and i feel
clean as a brook

and
when
hot lake
meets
hot lake

then the skeleton cupboards
all 
misplace 
their 
keys


HEADSPACE DOORS

and theres like a door opening
in your headspace

when
the
soul
of
a
poem 
appears formed
like
the
ghost
of a dead relative
after
a
of
cup
of
tea

till waking or distraction
renders
it
just a single heart over your head

like in a Tex Avery cartoon

with
one
beat
left

'withnail & i' from imoviequotes.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

THE NOWHERE HATCH AGAIN

well it was all gone 
wasnt it

left the nowhere hatch open again
didnt i

my mind i mean - well
i picked up
what i could

it was like packing chips
sticky and almost food

i put them in my breast pocket
a stain appeared there and spread

some i left online like waypoints
like memories and markers and yardsticks
and crawled under the soft blanket
and slept in the daytime

and later my mind dried like beef jerky
i tried to put it back together with tea

but it needed the mindless nothing 
of a cookie cutter movie
to get it to up its minimal game
and 
regular 
acceptable 
low grade 
behaviour

from mycustomhotwheels.com

NEXT DOORS DRILLING

GLASS HALF FULL SCENARIO

the glass is half full
when
youre
half
way
thru
filling it

with deep red wolfblass
or
golden gin

like i used to do

(tho now its all filtered water
and
dark bitter teas)

and
the
glass is half empty
when
youre
half
way
thru
drinking it

like on a monday night draining warm cider and cheap scotch
like
i
used
to
do

(tho now its all filtered water
and
dark bitter teas)

or
am
i
taking
it
too
literally

again

?

from foodriot.com