Monday, 24 July 2017

EVERYTHING IS PERMITTED



we 
are 
grounded monkeys
in homegrown polyester

proud of our cutlery thumbs
hot as heaven & cold as hell

mad 
with 
the
thinking virus

the others 
in the universe 
are laughing at us

but
jealous
too

at the ease 
of our 
hypocrisy

& how we wear our morality
like disposable
latex gloves



Image result for IMAGES patrick bateman

patrick bateman from lynncinnamon.com

Friday, 21 July 2017

DEATHS EMPTY YAWN



and
after
it
all
there is space made

like an empty yawn

for another
wet sacks
plastic kipple

~

this empty yawn
gasps into the cosmos

this empty yawn
is
stuffed with hamburger
and 
strange rubbery cheese
made 
in 
a
factory sized
chemistry set
somewhere
up
north

~

this empty yawn
is
flooded
with 
instinct & new blood

a mystery use by date

and
dna betrayal 

patched over
by times

new day
same day

relentless & assassinating

updates

~

this empty yawn

makes you
yawn too

and you see
those gone remain

for a time

in the nebulous hallway scent 
of
dateless
deja vu

~

this empty yawn
dries
stops
dies

the
moment
you leave
the wake

you sit in the car
and its too normal

youre in confusion
feeling
unresolved
and
full of carbs

~

this empty yawn
leaves old codes
in unconscious crafty placement

and surprise
bursts in your heart

at
old coins & stopped watches
in
kitchen drawers

at
bus tickets & jotted notes 
of
1950s mileage
used
as
markers
in
dusty
unthrown 
hardbacks

but
only for
the 
first time around



Image result for cosmos

from onedio.co

Thursday, 20 July 2017

JUNIOR SCHOOL PM



at the end of the day
we put our chairs 
upside down on the tables
for the cleaners easy access

it made the room
instantly alien 
like it was
full of steel porcupines

and there was a brief buzz
of clique free
childish camaraderie
that
it
was
over
at last
again

goodnight to teacher
we said
goodnight to cleaner

and then a slow walk home
down the soft back alleys
where someone had laid
carpet cut-offs
over
the
dirtway
slipthrus

lurid indoor patterns now trodden in
and
disappearing

or maybe to the pool

loose my self in motion
and chlorine

big blue locker key
pinned to my trunks
with
their
three
sewn on stripes
of competence 

i seem to remember it all
so clearly
everything except
the kind of bag i had

( what kind of bag did i have ? )

i was by myself
i wasnt good in company
it seemed to subtract me
somehow

so i walked home alone
or to the pool
looking at the roofs
and the tv spikes there

wondering
all
the
wonders
i wondered



Image result for arthur bugler junior school

from dailymail.co.uk