#75 - flies are fast

Ides of March

75

flies are fast

have you noticed?

it’s when you wish them ill

if I were faster than a fly

I’d be a ping pong ace

or WWI, dart out, dart in

later on, take flak

can you tear their wings off?

have you your own drone to chase?

something rancid draws them

they’ll follow up any graph

and fester

diaphanously limbed

and after full moon

see to herd

match swarm

dance with them

all up in the air

lovely, bring contagion

crisis to lurch

how many eyes together to see?

flies are fast

but there’s the sticky paper

poisoned air, honey trap

they pace the upside down of ceiling

glass, what-have-you

polish paws

because they’re aeronauts

and teach us all so many things

won’t you just remind me please

how is it that they drop?

74 - the pause button

14.3.20

74

the pause button

you’ll have to imagine this

take a deep breath (if available)

very human

did you notice the others?

machines labouring uphill and splutter

yet this is within reach

close your eyes and try not to look

you wouldn’t stare into the sun

then why now?

one step further along the wire

dreamt a knocking had to be the door

dreamt I was wiping my arse

couldn’t quite

something missing

the volume down

controls sometimes hard to find

but all things go on the blink

press firmly here

come to the inklings

so many things we can live without

perhaps turn off the box

of course you could always keep going

how deep a pit would you like after all?

should we break through the sunshine

to get to the news?

when better well leave alone

an excellent time

to lengthen the novel

to give up smoking

reclaim the garden

build out the back

all these things will protect you

you can speak with anyone anywhere

might be a good time to

there are so many ways to travel

now we consider the lesser known works

so duty brings to light

lie down for a little symphony

everything needs mending

the game goes on

no one watching now

it’s sunlight falls upon us

jungle a day to rescue

go by vine and cling

all trees point up again

#73 - the world's first truly self-punishing species

13.3.20

on  Black Friday

full moon too

73

the world’s first truly self-punishing species

for godsbother

whipped up

talked down

to market I always bring a bear

little things set off

those dinosaurs really didn’t

know what they were doing

nor has your amoeba a clue

misery loves everyone

of course you want the bad news first

ring in the nose

and lead along

we could do branding –

you’re mine!

here’s some fear

that you can trust

go on, just believe

no please

of course the sky is falling

ever it was thus

others have fallen for it too

admit nothing

we’re still testing for the disease

up a tree

in a hole

digging oneself further in

here, break your back on this, won’t you?

try breathing underwater

(worked for billions of years

still for some)

steal countries

how’s gaol for an idea?

can’t have it both ways?

of course you can!

the flagellants are building their church again

takes time out of the schedule but

still there is putting the devil in hell

we’re lovely with analogy

here, let me enslave you

a pyramid’s required

that’s when feeling peaky

let’s see if we can’t have a war

‘I hate you’

works best with the ones you love

be brave

set them on fire

drugs to kill you

make somebody rich

surely they don’t deserve to live?

shall we remember the Fall?

treasure these precious memories

and tickle me till I cry

I must confess

a good old stretch

on the rack will do it

meditate on a corpse, what else?

still trying to suss out the disease

dig your own grave, that’s a tidy fellow

first let’s lie on a bed of nails

porcelain pillow and bind these feet

of course we punish the others as well

all others

light up

toast flesh

breathe in

shit the nest again

wait for the news you know

night comes

the world turns 

we too may be slept off

#72 - notes towards the story of the girl who got lost in the dictionary

12.3.20

72

notes towards

the story of the girl who got lost in the dictionary

open the top of the box

see in down through the ladders and nets

where one word led to another thing

it was someone else’s too

aardvark led her in, by nose

of course, on historical principles

she’d been hunting there for meaning

which, you’ll know, is everywhere

neither quite awake, nor each one

under the spell of another, nose to arse

this could be the inner ear

where every question’s definition

and took an Earworm with, for company

of course but not so many stick

they went by the random method, naturally

(rather than sense)… down Oubliette

to Ouch and so test a Sesamoid

words! some sing and so alive

with Chevrotain for cute or

it could have been Pronghorn, who knows

you do see old folk in there

looking for the worlds they’ve lost

this girl had grown up with the best of words

their several tribes and light

encyclopaedic passages, kidding

where a thing’s explained

a dive into, a hand-me-down

and you could follow a tune

all the way half home because

you have to see with your own lights

so many fancy flights arrested

nor oxygen required there

it’s inner space – can you hear them inside?

quite a crowd and clamouring for  out

go by wi-fi now – so many are diseases

or unexpected architecture, all of them

are terms, concupiscent in cups (as Wallace Stevens

was) later on live but not for now

meanwhile all the more wanting in

and every one inhabited, chosen

dreamt up on a whim, blurted out again again

caught like a cough, passed on

and on beyond the breath where we have

this conversation

build me a Hecatomb – look it up and see!

I still have the volumes that amazed my uncle

the Waverley it was – hidden behind the orchestra

pity the poor bastards who only see print in there

have a squiz in the zoetrope, won’t you?

you’ve already been painting the pictures

the only way out is to make your own poem

all the parts that you’ll need are here 

#71 - the third person

11.3.20

71  

the third person

throw a line to a drowning stranger

at it again

sometimes sings along with me

third person is the one who’s fled

left this

it’s under the old eternity eye

all powerful to boot

even now with thee

just as prone to cheese and schmaltz

see into this face

it could be yours

just as pity needs a self

we rely on them to vote

and got between the covers

an extra wheel, anonymous

after the event

there’s never just one

wall flower, ointment fly

innocent on stand-by

it’s like you were there

take a sworn statement

appears as the objective fact

third person is telling tales

good only for this

simple past

eternal present

I must have left them there

as much to me

as is with you

and often comes between

these days takes the gender stroke

because we cannot know

but I say s/he cause ladies first

pull out the chair too far, it’s a joke

a threesome

much anatomized

look under the machine

not an historical personage

how’d you like to hold a narrative convention?

it’s the same old story

tired

often perjures

though ever in the box

loath to take the direct object

how long can you live in a bottle like this?

meet then better not shake hands

I am the author also

tell it how it is

do you see them chained, blundering on?

each of them with a medal in bronze

I call the cave to light 

#70 - what are the odds?

10.3.20
70

what are the odds?

a mild version

take death for instance

people get through it

or the fires –

ignore them, they go away

soon winter and you’ll want one anyhow

but I like a little death

makes me the Renaissance man

not for me the flood

I’m on a hill

death to … who is it this time?

…someone with exclamation mark

mutter a prayer and they’re gone

that camp over

call it yonder

I dunno

the barbed wire

and the surgical masks

nobody knows anybody there

note hospital odour

and shovel all the bones in

got to keep on rollin’

I have heard

only the weak will succumb

only the compromised

only the poor will suffer such fates

a necessary cycle

(read Malthus)

if not now then

it’s only by humiliation

down the hatch

the school with no pants you once dreamt

and come to fist there

honest tussle

someone’s got to go down

think Manus, Nauru, Guantanamo

just a little sting

consider an inoculation

hot

but fever in a good way

in any case

as so often happens

gone you won’t feel a thing

you can buy a lot with one death though

depends whose of course

still here!

what doesn’t kill me makes up for lost time

I go up and down with the markets

only if it’s meant to be

a little dose perks up

some superstitious say ‘God’s will’

be good and you can be with Him

carry on with the conversation

tied it to the wounded beast

but might pull through

lick mine

have some gel, a wipe

wash in the webbing

both sides of your hands

money takes a little rest

and now with rain we’re laughing

but can’t afford a holiday

maybe just wait for the bounce

only the workless

the unqualified

those not in a fund or a union

only the down hearts, the hopeless-friendless

only the undeserving

if I say gypsies, jews, poofs

will that help?

only the blacks and slopes and slants

only we endorse

it’s spring around the corner

and here are tomorrow’s belongings

possession being nine tenths

the rallies before and later we’ll sing

now we must all build the machine

pull patriotically

gather ye rolls

and empty the aisles

I love that ‘get what they deserve’

you could almost vote for the thing

can you think of a name for this doctrine?

remind you of anything yet?

what are the odds?

do you see where we’re going with this?

#69 - nooks and crannies

69

9.3.20

nooks and crannies

love to be lost

grows up around

it is a house half way

a welcome

this unworlding

slip into oneself in dreams

what could should have

where we’ve been

who built this city?

who drowns?

tell and

I will believe you

all lost things are there

and you and you

sway tilt

lean for bends

you’re carried

others are

cuddle up to

adrenalin’s other

tell on

in the old pyjamas of fact

here are the months days missed

no one else now

but you follow yourself in

slip away

sleep is in the story

no one is hiding

just let yourself in

step out of oneself in dreams

find the tended flower there

feel a chill

where lost to longing

feel the weight of the dream

its all nextness

storms and dark distraction

the ones named after crumble

but here’s eternity － a moment

no one inhabits here

all other days and nights in this

and took a dragon too

you’re the gift

all is given

plus four plus one

for love and deuce

see how the arrows fall

once I am hunted and make my own jungle

littler and littler so life returns

harmless now

was it not solid on rock?

castle we built turned out to be sand

then the tideline washed

this must be from where we depart

when there’s nowhere to go

love to be lost in the old pyjamas

eternity's that moment 

none long enough to inhabit 

slip into oneself in dreams

must be from where we depart

when there’s nowhere to go