BEAKED, A SUPERMARKET FRAGPOP

the

practically padded oldsters
are

trapped treading water

in 

their beaked daughters

me-me-me 

talkshouts of nowt

~

& i imagine them 

wringing their aging hands

all their mdf lives

in the wretched wash

of her whitewater do-be-do

ORANGELOOM, A TUMBLE THOUGHT

the

tombola
seasons

potluck
smells

&
the

dusks

orangeloom
ambience

confuse
my
nostalgias
sensor
array

~

so now how 

am i meant to know

what to be 

sad about today

SPONGIFORM RAIN

concepts risk failing

when grabbed hostage

in the spongiform 

of appropriated words


& i feel 

like sarah connor
when its raining 

in my heart

EGO POP

well the jealous gods 
they struck me down
in the compound tension

of the prebirth greenroom

i am never

to make it 

high enough now

to plant my arse 

on an immortal throne

somewhere between 

jimmy page

weeping algea

& 

the howler monkey gods of maya

 

WELL DOC

the
stout strangeness

& absolute carbuncle

of 

larping human 

among concrete berms

~

well doc prescribe me

a scamper across 

the freshest meadow

& a forest meander 

up & down & about

a heady game trail