Thursday, 12 March 2009


Pick up
Put down
Carry along
Treasure it
Holding it in your pocket
Stroke it when you're down
Linty memories
Taste the linty memories
Roll the linty memories up in a ball

Hold it when you need to remind yourself
Divine the linty ball like a gypsy
Cross your palm with fluff
And you will know your future

Fluff never knows anything
But is always optimistic

What does fluff know?
It has no bones
To break

Friday, 6 March 2009


tragic times take tragic people to fix them
in place they sit gyrating slowly
to the rhythm of me i dance
slowly downward we go
together at the last
train home
ward bound
in bandages dripping
from my body falling away
go the tragedies in jellified dollops
and make haste to greyer pastures elsewhere

Wednesday, 4 March 2009

A steady living


Trumpets alert me
brass and
cold blown
from pursed lips
like an old woman's anus
blowing evil down the tube

Carried well on the wind you can hear them from so far away
smell them from so far away
listen to their alarms
their foetid alarms signalling disaster so you might as well give up and go home

Regal and authoritative
brass band salvation army knows what's what
who's who
who wants what
no one wants you

Tuesday, 3 March 2009

kiteing you

grab a kite by its tail and follow it until it goes so high you cannot let go without breaking your back and become a paralysed ball of chewed gum left on the floor tough and mangy and bitter and old and alone until you get swept up by the cleaning staff and dumped in the bin only able to just peek the kite as it flies away
ribbons trailing behind
remember the feeling of rope burn between your hands as you hold on
but never come to that point because you hold on tight and make sure to open your eyes even if its windy and makes you sore even if it is bumpy and you keep losing grip with one hand and then another and readjusting and finding how to support yourself without ripping free
(when you lose one hand let it rest for a while and wave loose in the wind)


you can re-plaster but it won't help much
the damage is done
and i am
am here
and stuck
like a fly in
honey in honey and
enjoying the death

you can
know in your

bed that

i am with you, always
not ten inches away
at all times



Taken in absurdity
life is all about nudity

And the intervals in between
feel all the more obscene

for their waiting

and their baiting
and their stupid masturbating
of the head that sits upon your neck
and talks and talk and talks and talks and
talks a little more in it's special quiet language

it pops