Sunday, 17 March 2019

Red Yellow Blue

The hazel's bunting scrives
        at side of psych hospital

An alley/ a little way
        where stunk planks arc
and split sacs are

        There an half inch seen
the green leaves curl├ęd so
        with minims frayed

This man rolled a little bike
        and yelled out MAB
to puncture or to make count

        He had a penned on 'tache

The smashed pink tiles 
        they flare forever 
bright and about there


Sunday, 3 March 2019

Dead intent zone

one knuckle raised

post derm and shrug off lizard gleam

world of blonde children (dropt

from loins of skinny solicitors)

is doing me in

the salon framed by unreal trees

Sunday, 24 February 2019

Winter's leaving

Rain on the burner ashes
on petrol traces till
a bleating o-mouth Sun
a spare hedge lonely for

Memory of sheep fear vapours
with a stained work coat
and tempo fag

A dry bad painted wall with flies
behind posh boys out from Edward Rex

Our eyes are becoming too on steady
dry itches from prescript dream tedium
and I wear sticky glasses now

langsam    langsam    four four
     till it's curtains again

Sunday, 19 August 2018

In Memoriam Tom Clark

Last Friday, Tom died. He was a poet of critical intensity, alive to the possibilities of language. Given the man's intellectual courage, there was something beyond the pale about the work. He got the game too clearly and said so.

Billy Collins said he was a lyric imp. Well, I suppose. There should be no mistake, though: the play led to serious ends. The work mattered and, and times, bit with bright incisors.

I'd corresponded with Tom for a number of years. He was a dear friend and a mentor. I wish I'd had the chance to sit and talk with him in person. I can't overestimate the importance of his friendship. In writing, he'll remain the first reader in my mind.

All my love and thoughts are with Angelica, who shared life with Tom for fifty years.

Saturday, 4 August 2018

Set Time


Excrement spreads from back to front finding creases and somehow the order of a day how fear

sets vertu aside how the soi-disant decision gleams yes one girl in the corner arches her back

the wrong way then up straight and settles assertions stunted slither from front to back

a doll face and you know there's a conversation to be had but wait but wait a lulling smile


Sunday, 22 July 2018

Shop Front

His gelled hand shakes in time
with shrinking sets of feels

Balloon face boy he stumbles
over dayglo bag

Westernness
Oh for an OLED vista glass overwrit

Evenly, she says,
I will take you at your word
as if that meant

Drinking craft soy milk
at some repurposed school desk

Touches quiff
with too clean fingers
for pretend war sign

Light on egg hub stutters and
KAPUTT

Sunday, 15 July 2018

Post Crem June

At the seam that runs up
the retired solicitor's crotch (effortless
           structure/ small
                            beast tempo)
a darling bluebottle sends out a bright array
           of as if rays

       Deadness lawn of the course, we surrender
       and go mushy here, the air thickening
       with sticky suits alchy phyz pics

Henley only whereno  .  broken posts

recit. angels of Arden, eh, ardour
arbor, ARDEN

Big dog barks laughs and far away

A glass mouth in a cloud of face

       What will
       you pay?