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BREAKFAST

BREAKFAST

 

Some breakfast containing every snooker ball colour -

I just had three rashers of bacon on their own!

So for the write-up nothing could be duller

though in terms of taste and texture the triune

arrangement was sublime and I lick my lips,

my mouth still replete with the salty bacon taste,

which will get washed away by taking little sips

of sweet, diuretic ...

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LOCKDOWN AT THE FOOT OF SEA NESS

LOCKDOWN AT THE FOOT OF SEA NESS

 

First spring had sprung eternal, daffodils

were waving their yellow heads in the breeze,

then hot July brought cooling showers,

straw berries and gilly flowers and

soon enough Autumn was Optimus Prime,

when wasps leave fag burns in the apples,

apples with toenails in their cores. Then

the air had wistful, plaintive, melancholic,

...

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PUNK DOG VARIATIONS

PUNK DOG VARIATIONS

 

MY DOG HAS LOST SOME WEIGHT,

MY DOG IS MY ONLY MATE,

HE’S GOT FIVE HANDS

AND A FURRY BUM

AND HE LIKES TO NICK PIZZA

FROM MY POOR OLD MUM,

HE ONCE HAD A CUP

OF SWEET TEA TO SUP

AND EVER SINCE THEN

HE’S NOT DONE THE WASHING UP…

 

MY DOG GETS IN MY BED,

MY DOG GETS IN MY HEAD,

IT’S LIKE HE REQUIRES

LONG GUIDED TOURS

IN A...

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I KNEW THAT SHE LOVED ME

I KNEW THAT SHE LOVED ME


I escaped last night

into a heightened dream

from a dull and longing sleep


and the stars murmured

their cool ballad

to the approaching sky.


Secrets hung like ghosts

in the corner of my wanton world

all blurred and drugged too deep


and I knew that she loved me

from her invisible motions

and the dagger in her soft reply.


The questions c...

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AGGREGATE STAINS

AGGREGATE STAINS

 

For money, you cannot ignore them,

the house-pipes glugging a guilty gulp from

a big, culpable jug of the ug of drug or

smuggle or ugly truth revealed inside.

 

*

 

You wish to make it chime like bells,

reverberating up in the fells and strike

a warm, psychic chord, using a word-hoard

including the new dog Baxter's bark.

 

*

 

Thi...

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BLUE

BLUE

I am the dead man you killed my son.
My car took a train across the boat
over the bus through the tram and
via the telephone on the aeroplane.
I've seen wit. He's got grit. I can
beat the Germans five to one baby one
in five. Love is the hope the heart
literally needs in order for it to survive
without which it can stop. Emotional
balance is more the gift of the liver.
I can drum...

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PURPLE

PURPLE

 

Voices also told me to write of the

colour purple. In Steiner homes for autists,

rational but socially inept, the corners

of the rooms are round and purple

because it's less threatening than the geometry

of rightangled corners. My room

turned out a little like that when,

as my dying father lay in the attic,

my screen bloomed a numinous purple

light daubing...

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SUNSET TO THE WEST

SUNSET TO THE WEST

 

Swimming in the Irish Sea with my mother,

watched from the stony shore by my poor, dying father,

languishing in wound-healing expiation as a

laughter of seagulls flew past in shark mask replicas,

I turned my body away from the beach towards

the peach-stone of a black-hole being slowly

sucked into the sea's watercress-hives and

drowned and saw that bo...

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THE TRITE MACHINE

THE TRITE MACHINE

 

If the flower-press ending on cannabis = dialysis

and the love poem hoping to impress Flora = motor

A. E. I. O. U. to the leaves you can leave on all the

trees in the winter, vowels pure vowels, Immanuel

Kant will come to thee with immanence. I see

her face too soon on Facebook, marshmallow

lambs of snow saying sex not cheese to the camera,

rosy cheek...

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THE NEW BEAT AT UNIVERSITY

THE NEW BEAT AT UNIVERSITY

 

Portability is the Apotheosis of Form

and it's not impossible to write an anti-poem

while in the new field of Instant Travel 

brave telescopes are just left to unravel

and sadness gene and dreaming gland 

have long gone under Gondwanaland

and all things must be returned to earth,

surrendered like a rented thing to death.

 

Mutation in ...

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THAT BLACK NATURAL E

THAT BLACK NATURAL E

 

Where once I wandered far and wide

on a field-file, a file-field,

a fenceless farm without

security alarm where all hearts bleed

and all arts breed, now Hell

is very quiet, unadvertised.

 

McBreastmilk,

McBreastmilk,

feed your kids.

 

Gentle face erasing cream,

smear it in and let it sink

down through the pores of your skin

...

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FIVE EQUATIONS AT FIVE THIRTY IN THE MORNING

FIVE EQUATIONS AT FIVE THIRTY IN THE MORNING

 

I

 

Well, permutation minus T Intention =.

Whereupon there are millions of prequels.

E + not- E. The absence of manipulation

= truth and nonsense, in the same equation.

 

II

 

Plus times one over two equals minus.

Semantics is a road sign not a place.

One of these is written on Ted Hughes’

primary school wa...

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THE TREE OUTSIDE THE WINDOW

THE TREE OUTSIDE THE WINDOW

 

I find myself staring on a clear, bright day

at sunlight playing in the leaves of a tree.

 

I find myself like the man at the end of Pi

and staring longer I begin to notice the way

 

the wind ruffles the green leaves and so

it seems the tree is leaning back playing a guitar solo

 

with every light-absorbing leaf. I become

inveigled ...

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THE BECK

THE BECK

 

She starts life somewhere up the foothill Sea Ness,

(originally Seer Ness after a seer and his trance),

flows down into Parsonage Farm then past

Whicham Church where mum’s ashes will be cast

 

and turns a corner onto our land. That’s where

she runs her hand smooth through an angel’s hair,

falls a few feet in a waterfall as she makes her way,

moneyless and h...

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RANDOM ACCESS CO-IMAGINATION

 

 

RANDOM ACCESS CO-IMAGINATION

Simon says The River Goyt
might become the Styx in Heaven.
Will says Hollidot is a peaceable,
grammatical shapeshifter.

I say oceans smile with liquid
eyes and fill themselves with rain.
Dave says only the static caravan
knows a halfroad Rontaur.

James says let's have one more
crumble from dad's pollen.
Jesus sits at the right hand
of the Lo...

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TO THE BROS IN THE DEN IN THE WOODS


TO THE BROS IN THE DEN IN THE WOODS

I imagine now telling the bros in the den
in the woods my theory about the chain

of dark or even anti-evolution, that says
James Joyce, who also saw new creatures,

writing Ulysses is the reason why Ted
saw a monster in the river in childhood

who in turn wrote The Hawk In The Rain
which is then the reason Jim Morrison

saw winged serpents in t...

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