You can bury it undergroundsink it underwatersend it out to space But When it sproutsor floats to the surfaceor comes down to earth It’s as plain as the nose on your face. You can burn it,set it on fire.Have it eaten by the sows,have it gone away forever. But When the ashes and the bonesget …
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Fine Line
Treading the tight-rope with gusty guileAs far away as a horizontal milekeep everything balanced until it teeterslike snapping a ruler at 32 centimetres.
dedication dedicated just to you
Solitary Confinement
He cut himself off.Didn’t answer the phone.When the doorbell wentHe wasn’t at home. He simply switched offSat Anon.In a dark depressionKinda turning him on. A man going downFor a very long time.Not behind barsBut a put-on smile. No-one else knewOf his inner other.A bust of himself.His own Big Brother.
Medieval Castle
She felt down and out of it.Looking out from her look-out post.Everybody, everywhere:Some far-off fifteenth-century ghost. Guests would swear her eyes had moved.Her portrait face, hung on the wall.Behind the canvas, keeping stillOut of sight, she’d eavesdrop all. She wasn’t happy and she knew it.Happiness she’d never known.Not a soul had ever come closeAnd closeness, …
Film Set Extras/The New Normal
The streets are empty when a blink ago were full.The buses running with no passengers are just the ticket for wasting fuel.The beggars have nobody to beg toor have a two-metre vaudevillian wooden arm out if they do. The local drunk shouts out to walled-in deaf earsYou’ll die of the virus! I’ll die of alcoholism! …
Storm Brewing
Raindrop bodies cloud-gather ready to teem downfor a downpour on the battleground.The forces of good and evil and in-betweenare rolling up with mangled up metal ribcage spines.Black crow words uneasily perch on carbon paper cable lines.
The Plate Spinner
the plate spinner spins his platesbut he’s let things slipa little of latehis life in pieces at his feetthat magic touch that filled the seatsa helpless helping of butter fingers nowall washed-up he takes a bow what a shame what a pitythis inconsequential little ditty.
Weekly Wage Cat-Walkers
As they stitch each other upand paint their eyebrows and gloss their lipsdesigner label lovers are as realas the clothes they hang on their hips. The show over, they dinewhere restaurant cooks stir (with a fag in their mouth) behind kitchen doors.As bedtime wardrobe window-dressers, they wake up the next day:Just part-time boutique assistants, where …
The Mermaid Inn
The tide rolls in.The tide rolls out.Seaweed on the rim.Scuttlebutts tossed about. The tide rolls in.The tide rolls out.Flaky boat-varnish wallingrun-down saw-dust flout. A port of sinof by-and-large, and eelpout.The tide rolls in.The tide rolls out.
A Pretty Kettle of Poetry 