Memo 1

Down below the Guildhall where we stuck categories on with a small gaping machine.

Sunshine as irritant. We crawled from the drinking club with maps of blisters pinprick red.

And everywhere the vicious silver bell music.

Sometimes along the heat tunnels blood shifted from the head.

Methods of unwaking. Skips full of slung lit.

The Weather Around Here

 Hail at the pate aches smashed bottle auguries till Smethwick lemsip sun

              Hairy graphemes all over
    plane with mangled arrows showing

        Gaping dead cafe
  the fossil epic lamps whisper

           erred set pieces

Fall back eyes you
stall unhook a grin

        all the ivy ghosts
        all limpid eyes the somewhere engines shudder

    Lights from the sports club

Low broke wall before buddleias raised struts alloy grid tremble

       a thinning persistance thinner

   see-through arbour

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 curléd 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

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