THREE HAIKU & A BIRD 3

SHIT ON 

A BLANKET

 

her toilet was too far

drunks prob died on the lava rocks
    

    depression

    confession

TV RAIN

CLOUDY SKY


gods turned their backs

movies are 

          just wallpaper

bruised by hard rain






DESPERATE 

WALLET


full empathy winds
           
mud & wars 

          forever arms

fetch the penny jar

photo Shed Penguin from the Dagenham Archive

FOUND LIST 7

 

passport

hide

make own wallet

edit atlantic (?)

gift ideas

call re water

UC & STE

blank cards

postman anecdote

do not buy anything

funeral questions & body donation

wash hats

photo Red #118 from the Dagenham Archive

APOLOGIES BUT

 

my

brain

is slo-mo

&

my

wallet

slim-jim

but hold your horses you authors

i

shall

read

you yet

from changingworld.com

TOILET TOOTS

i
piss
into
another
Armitage Shanks
down
on
a
Whiff Away cone

im in a supermarket cafe pisser
reminded of the boozers up town
by 
the
framed
ads
on
the
wall

clubnights and party websites
hotlines and affiliated plumbers

~

theyd always be mumbling
in the cubicles up town

stifled snorts of laughter 
amplified off the tile

loud nose clearing
sharp inhalations

gasps guffaws
an urgent impatient controlling vibe

then a clusterfuck of men 
looking half raped
would
fall
out
together

their 
eyes
all childlike guilt

that turns to empty bravado 
and shout-talking in lists
they
fight themselves 
back down the stairs

~

id be emptying myself
into old Armitage
watching out the corner of my eye

and sometimes
theyd 
be
a
forgotten wallet in there
fringed in fine white dusting

maybe a rolled up cityboy fifty
on the pissy floor

or
just
some sick
on a turd

~

id go back to sit down
happy with my heavy drinks

id
be
going
soft
inside

id feel like home and nowhere
in tune
with the bars 
stained timber 
loser
serenade

~

if i had any wraps of madness
theyd
be
saved
for when im somewhere
i 
can
control the music

id rather 
be
in
private
when i talk total balls
hooked on rolling news
laughing at my shoes

~

gurning faster-miles-an-hour
and playing only intros
is
best
with
few
witnesses
smashed in a similar delusion

from timeout.com

LISTEN UP

you hear something?

sure did mister . . .

the bang of future-now!

and
two
no
three
muggers in the car park
high-tops
crunching on the gravel

but you dont know that mister

you cant see them your lobes are tight with dioxide

thats stereotypes that is

have a look turn round see them in the streetlight?

yes mister 
three
pasty faces
and
suits
and
good shoes
their eyes weak with thin justification

and thats not gravel mister

no?

no thats the finger bones of the state
and
the
skulls
of
the
schools . . .

hand on your wallet mister 
and
keep moving
stay in the shadows

bide your time . . .