TRIUMPH GAS TANK

the universe reaches

from inside of you
to wherever forever

& i would kick myself

if my time tickered out

before its secrets were out

& it built a bonfire of paradigms

& steve mcqueen returned to light it

like he returned

with free razors & bulk soap

to

his

old

kids home

one red shirt collar tip

pocking out

a mustard sweaters crew neck

beat up triumph gas tank 

between his denim legs

hollywood in his hip pocket

AGOG AT THE HIGHWAY

look the febrile universe
in its indifferent & piebald eye

like the ants we are

agog at the highways

pandemonium & alchemy 

& carry on carry on 

toiling in the cordovan soil 

we have worked

& poisoned

& paved 

smiling in the mad grace
we demanded of it

& 

weeping of it

the same

PLACE IS HEAVY NONSENSE

trembling at death
frying pan to fire ?

agog at the universe
the size of the thing ! 

& afraid of tomorrow
that regular unknown

~

this place is heavy nonsense

run by lightweights & lunatics

their teeth marks clear

on the seaside piers 

& the dogs of circumstance

congregate to salivate 

in 

the 

truncated precinct

nangs & candy plastic

on 

the 

betting slip ground 

MORE MOON REDUX

'earths exiled soul'

some

drunk

writer called it

i

call

it

a

sad beige button

holding

the

universe

shut

i
would ask
the
apollonians
but 
most went mad 

& anyway

none live
round here 

FISH SUPPER

in the Great Universe Scheme
the
poor baby bird
was
almost a nothing

i rescued off him off the cat anyway
there 
was
red - insides showing outside

in the quiet at the end of the garden
i
did
him
the
best as i could - mortal sweat breaking on ME
HIS nerve twitching
was
a
horroshow

sorry little bird . . .

now
i
burnt my fish supper too

 from halloweduk.wordpress.com

MORE MOON

earths exiled soul
some
drunk
writer called it

i
call
it
a
sad beige button
holding
the
universe
shut

 

from the telegraph.co.uk