2462
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28.ix.26
a hat
indoors
and the rain comes with it
a man who has been ironed flat
cloud of trees thought on
here’s to sweet regret
the beautiful thing is to not remember
in the broken place
see through
amazing how the house still stands
with none to live it now
find yourself again
once sung
and I’m with you
not that we know such things
that’s how it is to be here
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27.ix.26
at
a stretch
7.30
am traffic
Gore
Cove Track Series
to clear the head
with purpose
at pace
to get up the steps for the count
to speak with another world
(phone to ear here)
breathe in breathe out
so freshen the air
where there is the barking of the turkeys
the cooing of the pups
the early walkers with their sticks
hound in harness
all of them coming past
spring like the summer now
coming the other way
a scratch across the page like this
press blood to please the bones
to the plastic edge
where the e-bike’s abandoned
creek dapples along
the dollar yachts doze in their cove
slow burn whipbird’s over
lovely lilt beside, a trill
and crow caw
last of the winter chill
no one speaks of themselves here
it’s only a harbour blue line for under
it’s only a pale blue up
2460
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26.ix.26
air
fiddle
or
haven’t
we all been here before?
ekphrastic
for Natalia Gonchorova’s 1910-11 ‘Peasants Dancing’
you’ll need a body for this
and the colours to lean in
with neither a floor nor a ceiling
you’ll need a face and eyes avert
you’ll need a truth to elude
blue cloth behind for a night
green as over where we’ll grow
fate of us all that a moment is such
you’ll need the feet to go
someone offstage is soon to sing
strings and reeds and a drum
2459
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25.ix.26
race to the
bottom
or
why the fuck
why the fuck
are we supplying fanatical lunatic mass murderers
with weapons,
with ammunition, with soothing words
and the odd tut
tut
?
why are we
paying taxes for this?
for tone it
down please but we’ve still got your back?
you have a
right to exist
…don’t we all?
oh, I see, it’s
for precious leverage
don’t think I labour
under a misapprehension
the other side’s
less genocidal, less full of hate
they, too, get
the soothing words
receive the weapons
donations
and that is
supposed to make it okay?
you begin to
see where hate comes from don’t you?
there seems to be a direct link to unnatural death
and that seems
to be the product of hate +$$$$
though often hate
will lack the means
but why are we
helping hate? …
so we can say ‘bad
monster, down, boy
but you’re
still our monster
you’re not at
all like that other monster
the monster you
hate
we hate too
then who was it
lit the fuse?
who was it laid
the cordite trail?
who was it
wouldn’t forgive?
could never
forgive?
something
written in a dusty old book
to justify anything
you like
to plague anything
you hate
to kill and
kill and kill
and wear the
halo all the while
and smile for
the cameras
be the always
one hard done by
what the fuck?
my enemy’s
enemy’s enemy’s enemy’s…
no knowing
where this thing will go
how it spreads
how hate gets
into every last corner
but how does a
thing like this begin?
how do we make
it end?
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24.ix.26
only the
skin of the world
melophraktic
for Nigel Westlake’s and Lior Attar’s ‘Sim Shalom’
where we are,
where we live
of the teeth
and concerning the claw
goes all the
way round
come back to
just here
as far under
the moon as anyone gets
although we
burrow a bit
lift wing to
fly
it’s just down
here in a sky’s lowest reaches
and here’s a
tribe of skin inscribed –
little
scratches where we’ve signed
mainly though
it’ nose to arse whiffy
old itch we’re
under
bomb like a
clock ticking on to tell
is it every
animal for ourselves?
regret and
what’s next?
anxiety reigns
skirmish
becomes a catastrophe
no sin as such to
visit
but ancient
animosity
and mine,
mine, mine
like Bugs Bunny
in Ali Baba’s cave
after the wrong
turn at Alberquerque
there isn’t an
eye in the sky over this
but we have
tossed up
it must come
down
it’s every
animal decides
peace is never
granted
it’s the hard
thing
it’s just for
us to make
2457
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23.ix.26
everyone’s
trying to get away from death
we’re in a
great rush
trying our best
it’s like there’s
a bad smell
open the
windows
try to let
death out
keep dusting,
keep brushing, keep wiping away
death’s got a
bad wraap
they’re calling
it out too
want to shut it
down before it’s too late
they shun death
like …
it’s like death’s
got the plague
it’s fast as we
can
we’re running
away from death
we don’t want to
have ‘the conversation’
we wouldn’t
give death the time of day
but we’re all
on the one travelator
call it the
inexorable
death is
amazingly reliable
we break down
it doesn’t
we actually
seem to be greasing the wheels
look away but
death’s crept up beyond you
maybe death’s
looking you right in the eye
denial!
everyone’s
running a mile
into those headwinds
slowing to a
crawl
then lying in
squeezing out a
few last words
say something called
prayer
conjure up a
soul if you please
none of it ever
works
they told Job
to curse God
he had a devil
of a time
death’s had
this bad press
they’ve got this
grim thing going
get to the end
of the line
and we’re
waiting
…so many forms
you won’t have to fill out
see death sometimes
in an unswept corner
under the rug,
you know what to do
but all our
best intentions rot
it’s how hell
was paved to begin
and still
today, so many undone
now arriving
black limousine
you shine just
by seeing
and proud! just try telling death
death’s all
dominion
it’s a lot like
love when you think –
an inescapable
devotion
this one is a
terrible hoarder
100 billion of
us signed up so far
or you could
say … conscripted
unconditional
death!
even as we
speak
or sigh
did you?
gasp and moan…
it’s being
declared somewhere right now
think punishment,
call it a sentence
think payment
of debt
as if life were
a thing only leant
when this is the
way our world rolls
can’t we just
accept, go gentle?
one thinks of
those happy years we had together
mourning for a grief
some say death’s
a machine
but it’s growing
trend
it will always
be the latest thing
death fucks with
tense and aspect
I cash in my
rewards card
I cross the
finish line
I pass
in death I will
arrive
it’s where all
the wishing will get you
in death wes
will have arrived
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22.ix.26
often there
will be no way back
not that can be
found
now that the animals
are all known
find yourself
still warm, brisk out
puddles of
light here there
frequently map’s
torn, else cannot be read
so much dust,
it’s buried or it burns
we never had
one
feet will not
reach the pedals
you’re in the
back seat anyway
fact is you’ll
not know who’s whom
done to and
doing?
we have guessed
to be here
it’s what you
know, never twice the same
veranda view,
splinter from the rail
as if always
just around a corner
but no one has
spoken
feet fly, that’s
it, we’re all pursued
that was the
easy part
we name the
stars far beyond seeing
