Tuesday, 29 November 2016

NOT BORN TO FOLLOW



with
my
door
key
i
scratch

not born to follow

into 
the 
locker rooms 
vinyl magnolia 
paint job

its from a song

was young

then
coffee breaks over

and
i
follow


Image result for easy rider

from rogerebert.com

Friday, 25 November 2016

OFFCUT POPISMS



sometimes its like
i wake up
all
of
a sudden

and think

what the shit am i wearing ?

( two diff clashing camo patterns
  and
  an
  orange check shirt )

or

why am i writing about
the
toilet
again ?

( it was NOT teflon in there . . . )

you
know ?

-

cant see the dangerous flames 
in 
the 
sunlight
of 
state approved fame

and
the
shouting
newspaper
fallout
deafens
us
with
agenda in bold font

-

the grey sea attacks

it sucks at the concrete edges

and my mind -

is
so
far
from home




Image result for fish scale sky
fish scale sky by mizz bee on flickr

Thursday, 24 November 2016

THREE POSSIBLE REPETITIONS



SEASONS NEVERMIND

i
write
without
drink

no one ever did a harder thing

and out there
autumn
dies
in
gold



TOMORROW IS A PLACE ON EARTH

i
thought
if
i
stopped drinking
i
would
die
in
the
flatness of the world

but i didnt



ETERNAL STORIES

the footlights now
are
a
nuclear glow

the actors

desperate

carry
on



Image result for IMAGES FLAT EARTH

from flatearthscienceandbible.wordpress.com

Wednesday, 23 November 2016

YOU CALL US



they called us 
  baby boomers
they called us 
  the blank generation
they called us 
  generation x

  etc

will they call you 
  generation text ? 
will they call you 
  generation next ?
or
  evergreen perennials ? 

  meh & bleh

~

they 
tie 
us 
down
in buzzwords

in a tagnut tangle
     blisterpack windows
     state approved text

and sell us clothes
with the words on

break the mold ?

and
youll
define
it
even
more

~

they
give 
us 
different pastel shades

they
draw 
clear and invented divisions

across
our
gray 
shades

~

there will be enough time
when
we 
are 

     finished 
        and 
      fucked

for our thick retrospit
to
sizzle
on
the
bitesize bonfire
of
histories
bugthick
glampsite




Image result for buzz words
from cartoonstock.com

Tuesday, 22 November 2016

GRANDPA DREW



grandpa drew pictures
in
wobbly
ballpoint

a clicktop parker

of him and a cartoonist
in hospital together
throwing
hoops
onto
each others leg casts

the cartoonist 
did a drawing 
of a cartoon pig
  signed it
  gave it to me

years later
i
live
in
grandpas house

doodling cats and us
with fine point

architects pens
  
the doors open
  gas fire on 
  all its bars

he
would
go
ape
if he knew




Image result for basildon hospital
from www.echo-news.co.uk

Saturday, 19 November 2016

A WEEKEND PIC POP



morning mr foot



well hello johnny coffee



at first i thought this was a dove


but no
it wasnt

Friday, 18 November 2016

NIGHT POP



the
waking small hours
are
emptied out

colourless

i sneak along my own hallway

the hanging coats
are evacuated shells

and
i
fill
the
night
with
cigarette smoke and cold water

asking
rhetorical 
questions

that 
daylight couldnt write



Image result for rhetorical question
from quotesgram.com

Thursday, 17 November 2016

VICTORIA AVENUE



  how 
  my 
meat tower balances itself 
on 
hearsay 
pale legs 
knees of fire

  how 
  my 
water brain builds reality 
from
wallpaper
denim 
blockpaving 

  how 
  the 
abyss stays beneath
the 
citalopram 
bath tub 
dirt line

these are things i ponder - ego distraction 
                            amateur analysis
in 
an 
escaping dusk
as
i
haunt familiar avenues
with
ear phones in and pod on shuffle
and
no expression at all - foot then other foot 
                       is all enough for me

noticing 
railway terraces 
  of old brick
closed churches 
  of graffiti boards
thin alleys 
  winding up hill
dead banks 
  shut eyes
new builds 
  vain glass
and
plastic fencing
  putting wood
  out of a job

  that
  i 
hardly really ever 
noticed 
before




Image result for victoria avenue stanford le hope essex

from www.primelocation.com

Wednesday, 16 November 2016

PRINGLES AND NOTHING REALLY



Image result for a marble images
from creatorsjoy.blogspot.com


still in bed at noon

cat
curled
in a circle
next
to
me

his tail covers his back legs
his front paws folded
his head almost upside down
hes snoring

gone for a while
to a simpler world

i got 
coffee 
gum 
comics 
sunlight

on and off
theres neighbour
to watch 
hes
retired 
bored 
scraping moss out of cement cracks
where ever he can find it

well if it makes him feel better
let him do it

and anyway
my mind is boiled down 
into a toy marble far away
with
plastic
waves
inside
that have no shore
to
aim for ( and look like new wave lips )

oh yeah
i forgot - theres
           pringles
           on
           the
           night stand 
           too



Image result for pringles
from pringles.com

Tuesday, 15 November 2016

DEAD PALACE




  the council 
  almost 
  got it right -

locals didnt want
the swimming pool 
torn down
for 
supermarket chain

  but
the swimming pool 
was torn down
and the 
supermarket chain
built its 
steel and glass

  and then
  duh 
  of course
the council stopped 
the supermarket chain
moving in there

so the palace sits empty

dead

and wind flown seagulls
eating market throwaways
rest
on
its
stillborn steel
and
shit
down
its
new glass



Image result for empty supermarket images

from the daily mail

Friday, 11 November 2016

NO POLITICS JUST SPAM




i remember having spam
as a kid

with baked beans

i remember the bean juice
on the pink meat

sometimes it was ok
sometimes i would gag

now i got a WHOLE folder for spam
on my pc

and one on my phone

whod have thought it ?

theyre very full these folders
with very crazy stuff

sometimes thats ok
sometimes it makes me gag

anyway these days
i hear
theres spam drs

whod have thought that too ?

i remember going phishing too
as a kid . . .



Image result for computer spam

from med.stanford.edu


Thursday, 10 November 2016

MAD GIBBONS OF ARMAGEDDON




the morning called the night a liar
as low risk expectations grew higher 
and 
the safe blue map spread out redder
and 
somewhere out there 
i bet theres a cross on fire
and 
here the town crier
had never felt so alone
and 
leaving his home
he
gagged on the news
and
he 
gazed at his shoes
and 
he wept
he'd not slept
and 
to not have to speak and say
he threw his shiny bell away
onto a liberals astroturf lawn
whod got up early 
especially to mourn
to 
get 
used to being invisible
and 
to 
practice being conspicuously miserable
for 
when the cameras came
and he upped his game
with useless analysis
and 
endless words
all teal piss
and 
hangover turds
in the suitably sad moan
of this dimmer switch dawn
and 
the 
prius on the driveway
couldnt have saved us anyway
and
the town crier found a wetherspoons
to pour bombay gin on his wounds
and 
there he sang delta blues
for
the zero hour shift workers
and
the unloved sex workers
and
for
all the uncertain lovers
and all the worried lovers
and all his tinted brothers
and all the single mothers
and all his turban sisters
and all the thirsty children
and all the hungry children
and all the unborn children
whod
pop out of the global lottery
into plenty
or land thats empty
and
know no other way
till their last day
and 
the town crier resigned
for the health of his mind
he wasnt old
he had time
to get out there and find
somewhere
where
theres
something better to say
and whatever and anyway
he sang
what a fucking day . . .
and
all the underclass
couldnt give an arse
business as usual 
when you live in a urinal
and
all the trustfund rats
and
all the fat white cats 
who followed the freelance piper
that acid dream of the gipper 
had
all
glued their blinkers on
gave up free thinking as one
and
coughed up
and
shat out
their unleashed desire
thats been on a fast
in the root cellar
and
they were calling out 'at last !'
knee deep in assassinated bees
like canute in rising seas
holding up the locker room keys
to the rotten empire
that balances over a pit of the past
on a high wire
wobbling in the wind of words
only the angry really heard
and
now
its
all
nuclear breeze and hard rain 
border walls and arm-stars again
and
old leaders are suddenly shadows
mumbling 'well how could we know ?'
and
now no ones knows where to go
and 
from out the banished chasm
that 
free speech wouldnt let us fill in
had come old school populist manipulation
punctuated now
with the wet bark of a rapists orgasm
as
the
mad gibbon of armageddon
touches all the women
when he should be in prison
and highbrow derision 
is no pragmatic solution
so
lets go to hell
but
might as well
mobilise that liberal army
with its printed benevolence
and kind artillery 
and see 
if that 
does any good 
at all 
anyway




Image result for free speech

from youtube

Wednesday, 9 November 2016

PUSH IS DEAD, LONG LIVE PUSH









LOAD UP LOAD UP



its late
and
i
need more poison - i do
                   i do
                   i do

id cry out 
ten mins  
before the offy 
shut for the night

i was dumping ground
for
toxic waste - living a dirty equilibrium
              
and i was meaningless
some empty gutter
when
riding
out
a
booze
gap - i should be loading up
                  loading up
                  in
                  preparation
                  in
                  training
for
whenever
and
whatever - it made sense to me
           in
           my
           dirty
           equilibrium 




Image result for toxic waste

from greenplanetethics.com