Monday, 5 October 2015

Hey Albert!

Hey, Albert: when the words whip
across the bar; you have caused offence.
Beer sticky elbows peel away, hands open,
offering your palms. Albert the Innocent. 
The publican cradles the telephone –
offers peaceful resolutions: stands stock in stare.
Retreating into wall watching, the bar
becomes oblivious to your shape and sound.
& then Moby Drunk stumbles in - 
A white whale cresting the carpet.
We pour your pain; we love you, honey.
“Kill me now, wet drunk,” some wit says.
We all cry-laugh until your round drops.
                       
“-|- ”









Friday, 20 June 2014

a bag of lemons from italy

'got it,' you say, 'there's something in the way, 
something eating...'

'me,' i say.

i think of anger & feelings such like but nothing comes

there's a wave waiting always 
to soothe or to break

me. i see

away from me, outside of me
the world dies every night

maybe

i think of correct choices, apt decision making
& scream past them, my elbows worn thin

i will throw away things i thought i loved
to give me the choice

i beg of you
wait

a bag of lemons from italy
benzo boxes & old fashioneds
was all that was left

of me. i saw

sourness and yellow
tom & jerry cartoons

i love You 
& i will never be ashamed 
to say it here
at the end 
of these jaundiced lines

You
i
love






Thursday, 20 March 2014

bread & hope

if it were possible to be more tired 
than we are now I would not believe it

please send us sweet tea & soft pillows
sunless somnolence please please

functioning is harder after sleepless nights 
I bit my dog, sorry

it's not helpful or kind to criticise
the parts of ourselves we lost in the dark

those wolffish desires for bread & hope
burn out in the end

Monday, 24 February 2014

ohgodoh

tubes of foil, tubes ofoil
dragging thedirt of London
through themselves

filterschokeon fumes

fuckingup over &over again
is easy cometo the party, Henry
we have drink&drug neons ago

oh god ohgod ohgodoh



Monday, 27 January 2014

...data...

addiction to data
rag and progress

i see no skinned 
knees

in the achievment groups


evolutionary mismatch
between

environment & ancestors
homonims

hijack the reward pathway

Monday, 2 December 2013

Thursday, 28 November 2013

Monday, 29 July 2013

Thursday, 27 June 2013

A to Z of Archaeology









A is for Archaeology
Anubis the god of Copper Necropolis,
a woodland culture (better known by its ancient name AKEATHON), fossilised in pine resin (1459 BC), reached its peak in development, C1986-1458 BC. There then followed a brisk trundle between catastrophe and blunder that, some say, caused Atticus the Elder’s heart palpitations and eczema.
B is for Bes
Ugly demi-dwarf god of the Phoenicians, trampling Christ under his irregular baulk. Upon the bird, boat and sun disc floating across the death-field, Bes drinks; no one slips a him a Mickey Finn: he’s always slumbered at the helm, braced against the Bølling Oscillation. The elegant eustasy of his thoughts unaltered by ice-age or ecstasy.
C is for Cuneiform
Calendar Round > C A L E N D E R
(See below)
a) a cAvEMaN seeks.
b) cannibalism.
d) in Carthage.
The dread galleons of wretchedness promised by the Mayans never arrived. There were no modern equivalents of the fall of Ninevah, no trampling cities into dust; all the banks, monetary mirages, dissolved into thoughts. 
Cats > S A C R E D  A N I M A L S
D is for Domestication
Chihuahuas, the most useless of all canine breeds, were once holy animals, settled in the temples of mexico, turned into water bottles post-mortem. Now, heads peeping out of Californian handbags, their indignity is complete.






Sunday, 11 November 2012

automatic
- like the hand
  reaching
in the dark
  for the glass
beside the bed

A rabbit eating strawberries from a yellow bowl.

Lola is dancing 
in her one-piece blue pyjamas.
The sun is swatting parts of the room -
the shade bites into the glare, leaving blades of light.

The song playing is her favourite. 

She stands legs astride 
& sings a good guess at the chorus,
mangling half the words,
but it does not matter.

She is the glory in this morning.

We have completed a jigsaw 
for the first ever time
& it now lies on the floor 
like a forgotten masterpiece.

It is of a rabbit eating strawberries from a yellow bowl.

She arches over until
her head touches the floor
spreading her arms outwards
she holds this pose - it is impressive.

I implore her to take a bow & she acquiesces.

I'm playing all her favourite songs.
It is an intentional manipulation
I am not ashamed to admit committing.
& anyway, it generates joy for us both.

& what could possible be wrong with that.

We have spread a snowdrift of paper across
the living room floor, practising writing letters
and primordial poetry. 

& what could possible be wrong with that.


Sunday, 30 September 2012

"OCK ENT ATO" Poetry Reading Photographs

My first reading - when I could still read.
From the website: We are working collectively to renovate and redevelop THE MINESWEEPER - LEDSHAM M.2706, DEPTFORD CREEK, LONDON into a space for artistic innovation. Floating laboratory of the MINESWEEPER COLLECTIVE.”
Joe Stohlman and I read three times and then some open mikes blew everyone away. My third reading was marred slightly by the amount of medicinal whiskey I had imbibed, but that was made redundant by the brilliance of the proceeding readings. Honest. Follow this link OCK ENT ATO to see the photos. The reading was at this venue. All photos by Valentina Gaddia.

Thursday, 12 January 2012

(then up and into everything the squall and the rest of it)



there was a part
(fruit-sweet)
of me
uncovered by the suck
           of your filling lungs

(the sound / lifting / breaking
/././.::o_) ) )  )  )  ) _ver  
                     
the white-tiled, bloodied room

(then up & into everything & 
the squall & the rest of it)

a part I will never squander


Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Fat man through the window bagging up his packed lunch under strip lights

Sunday, 13 November 2011

storks in the arteries

the rumbling
muscle underneath
the dip of fabric
that is my pocket


<...made me answer my phone, dumb...>


a parataxis 
of ligament & bone
a dislocation 
of sense from matter


<...it is unexplained, disconnected...>


an accident
an uncomfortable 
glide of cloth
& screen perhaps?


<...a dryness of hope, more likely...>


that way (east) 
there is Poland
& the pure blast 
of Russia beyond


<...extracting revenge, short-twitch on my thigh...>


a tremor in the leg
storks in the arteries
flightless birds, fish rotting 
in their blocked gullets


<...I am ringing, not the phone...>

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

the boy's bicycle chain shivered as his back wheel jumped the curb

Wednesday, 21 September 2011

La Granada

I forgot to say, I have a poem published in the first edition of new Norwegian poetry magazine, La Granada. It's great. You can read for free online or buy a hardcopy.



UPDATE: LOOKS LIKE THEY'VE STOPPED PUBLISHING.

I, a at least, have a copy to show it all happened.

UPDATE TO THE UPDATE:

You can get copies here.

Thursday, 15 September 2011

Monday, 27 June 2011

Sunday, 8 May 2011

Fragments, scraps and off cuts of Scavengers















Plate VII. Male & female
cockroaches with egg-sac,
spiders’ webs, a cedar in
Highgate cemetery.

XII.

blue tit at coconut
unusual site of blackbird’s nest
this rookery too was deserted

Plate IV













XIII.

large horizontal branches
of the trees . ecclesiastical of birds
the jackdaw must rank

Plate V













XIII.

in the grounds
of the Zoo
- her normal clutch

Plate XI













XIII.

most ancient rookery sites
three cartloads of sticks
- hung on longer

Plate XII













XIV.

nothing zipped pass
the decaying notes of the moon
& its metres-wide
disintegration

of atoms.

Saturday, 7 May 2011

The Scavengers of London eBook on The Red Ceilings Press

Read my new poetry ebook, The Scavengers Of London, for free, on the excellent The Red Ceilings Press.


Link straight to it here.




extract

flood of buildings. London’s
many little streams & flatlands
after the conquest of Waterloo



the metropolis sacrificed
engulfed by fruit & vegetables
the marshiness of much



woodcock & snipe
five fields till the middle
decaying stalks of the flowering rush



by the osier pond. A common
bird along a small hillock
instead of through a sewer

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