Monday, 29 May 2017

MONOTONOUS ANIMALS




theres lorries on the sky road
monotonous animals
three deep
crawling up the cement whirls
outside the supermarkets widescreen window

the windows glass is covered
in peeling and translucent white
it
paints
the
traffic
into
a visible white noise

i get a feeling they can never stop
these pale ghosts of themselves

and these wars these days
they roll together these days 
dont they ?
into
one
great guess-who mass
the short bombing on purpose
inside the spreading margins

i am the man in the future
the child could not see
but i wouldnt surprise him
camo trousers
a dirty hat
black plastic tech with no moving pieces 
in the meat of my shaved paws
the
air
stacked with information
around my empty supermarket cafeteria plates

indeed the child may be pleased . . .

we are locked in the freedom prison
i think in astoundedment

and i write myself a note
to be that clever again

and on the
supermarket
sale rail
all the polo shirts are in small
theyre
begging
in 

modesty parade



Image result for supermarket clothes sale

from korenvs.co.il

Friday, 26 May 2017

TALKING TO ARTHUR NEXT DOOR



we start with a greeting
hes doing whatever he does
on his drive full of cars

football shirt on
or not shirt at all

today its no shirt at all

i am taking out rubbish
i probably dump it
in the wrong bin

and we ask each other 
if we are ok
and i will tentatively 
approach the fence
keeping my options open

he will tell me something
about
the
weather / family / hospital visits

i will say something similar
which he will not notice

next he might tell me
something i told him 
three months ago

but today its something almost new
its about the guy opposite today
who rides up and down the street
in electric mobility scooters
with his brothers
of an evening 
now its lighter later

theyre men he says
theyre liable

i am laughing and tell him hes jealous

he will only notice 
that i disagreed
and his head will not compute
and
he 
will
escalate vaguely

the way stuff is today
i dont like it he says
dimly self aware 
he has nothing 
specific to say

this is going nowhere
so i ask him about 
all the cars on the drive

my son-in-laws he says
they got parking charges now
in his street

i ask wheres that then ?

oh where he lives
he says in surprise

i think blimeyjesus 

the way stuff is today . . .
he is saying 

i diffuse him
before he brings up
the team of blockpavers
from months ago
who he assumes 
are bulgarian
and that carjacked van
they had nothing to do with

i diffuse him
with a broad sweeping statement
of the nature of progress
its inherent temporariness 
our fickle interpretation 

and as i am loosing him
and as he doesnt listen to me anyway
i say
the more things change 
the more they stay the same

a saying i mull over often

and he likes that
it has a ring to it
it sounds clever

and we sign off
with a joke
about supper
the kettle
afternoon naps

we both go in
and i dont have
to look at
his great hairy corfu brown belly
and his struggling childs eyes
anymore
or
those
small
growths
in his armpit
that look like
the legs of a tiny octopus
climbing
out
of
his
flesh



Image result for blockpaving images

from siteadvisor.com

Thursday, 25 May 2017

ALL CLEAR AND POST



behind the glass
a woman in leather
runs from
alien and believable gods

move she says to herself move
she must answer the ringing phone
all our lives depend on it

this side of the glass
my unopened post sits there 
like wrapped gift
would
sit
there - blunt and solid
with something of the mistake about it

( i had been compulsive and unthinking
  i was like hank 
  behind the glass 
  shot
  and 
  recovering
  buying minerals in bed from ebay
  in the night time tv gloop and glow )

the packages - they are like paper rocks 
strange samples on the kitchen tablecloth

a weird geology they demand attention

there could be ANYTHING inside couldnt there ?
and ignoring my knowledge

savour
this 
manufactured mystery
for  l o n g  moments
sipping coffee number one

and the time ran then
it steamrolled over cold fear and the wired dread 
of these 
          falling / failing
                            faux
                              empire
                                 days
and over noons stagnation 
and all its attendant nothings
and i heard a tactile tick tock
and i felt a small vroooom
like a machine had started up
behind the days flat scenery
and the nameless Effort
    the orphan Art
    i
    had
squeezed out  bled out
forced and coaxed out

    ( the writingslob emitted curdle again )

    well now it Shone Easily - had no Hard Questions

and the day felt like a day then
an easy marker  a nice place
instead of another unsane blur
where only the edges make sense
like
crisp green leaves eaten into skeletons
by the long gone beasts of dawn

and when the cat steps up onto the bed
it is with a perfect sense of things

and shadows pass by the window
like of course they can and should

shadows of harmless other people
doing harmless other people things

and 

feel
like
i
won an award - i can hear doves too
their repeating coo
like an All Clear siren today

the woman behind the glass
picks up the ringing phone

and she knows theres no rainbow 
you can see it in her eyes

and 
her
outstretched hand on the callbox window
is
a flat No  a spread Stop
in 
defiance

at circumstance 
at authoritarian retaliation
at
the
big
black
truck
running
her down . . .



Image result for matrix trinity in phone booth

the corner at wells and lake from matrix.wikia.com