The days end.The nights sendangels and ghosts.They notch you up on their bedposts.
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Moonsville
Everyone there has a cat.Some are slim and lean, some are big and some are fat.Some are white, some are grey and some are blackbut everyone there has a cat. Everyone there goes about their day daily and their night nightlywhere things fall heavily or float up lightlywhere they let them go or hold on …
When there is a fall in faith
That’s how it is.There’s nothing joining us together apart from cement.Bricks and rubble as answers to a war-time quizthat came like a blitz and then went. So close, we have to whisper.Walking on tip-toes to avoid a blister.Family round the wireless in 1939.Today, so enlightened, we fly upand crash into the children crossing sign.
Promise Me
Promise me you’ll be there ‘til the endOr somewhere near like a fair-weather friend.Promise me you’ll keep your promise safe in your memory bank somewhere.Promise me you’ll break it if you forget the combination. Promise me you’ll bugger off when you don’t give a buggerOr get armed for a hug when we need a hugger.Promise …
World is getting flatter by the minute
People arguing and breaking windowsbeing carried off in a big balloon and coming to blows.The world is getting flatter by the minutewith politicians in white capes winging itup to the top of their ivory towershot-air propelled by their motions and powers.The world is getting flatter by the minute.Taking sides, falling off the edge opposite. Sleepers-on-the-streets …
The Street Circus
I watch the entertainmentWith beer in my belly.The woman who has two heads.Her husband who has three.The world’s ugliest twinsAnd the tight-rope walkerWho first fell in infancy. A little later, the midget act endsAnd a midget collects small change.The passionate fire-eaterWho recalls an old flame.The clown who clownsAnd ‘The Amazing Memory Man’Who forgets his own …
Childhood Heroes
They’re so important, aren’t they?One of mine died today.It doesn’t matter how adult you’ve become or how old.They have such a hold. They take you back.Give you a nostalgia attack.It doesn’t matter who they are or what they’ve done.Just how young they were when you were young. You hear the news they’ve died.Feel something you …
Still Life
Piss artists draw it outnot leaving til Is it dead?Later, back home, there’s a routwith flowers and fruit, plates and bread.
War Godmother
Homing pigeons get sent out.Dogs get scent about.How is it back there?I’m thinking of deserting as a dare. I’ve been given my marching ordersAnd I’m marching tomorrow.Must say there’s too much mud to see any borders.Have I lent myself to a medal I’ll ever even borrow? That’s it from me, darling.Your letters keep me going.When …
Any N.I. number
I wake with a joltBolt upright in bed;Both bell-shaped ears clangingEither side of my metal alarm clock head. Caricatured in a comic-book worldOf sketched in pillow and sheet,I think out loud, as a speech bubble balloons;“Bloody ’ell! A working week!” That ruddy routine and rigmarole;Striped pyjamas stripped off, shave n shower,Clothes, coffee and cornflakes,Breakfast T.V. …
A Pretty Kettle of Poetry 