Chester

Roll them in and roll them off roro row your boats it’s not the magistrates nor the courts the system’s sinking only the shit still floats. If I am going to be doomed can you make it at midnight on Friday? I get paid and if I’m to be weighed off I might as well…

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Not guilty

Automatic trains, drivers no brains? not sure I like it Progress is depressingly slow and I’m still playing at catch-up you know what it feels like? it feels like I’m not sure I like it. This is not the end it’s just an interlude…

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Cousteau knew

. I wonder why it’s called human nature when it’s becoming less natural, saturated with fats monosodium’s appear to fascinate must be something in the glue to make it so. No wonder those on Star Trek boldly go except for jean Luc he baldly goes, I save the shaved ones for last…

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Time for one more

We fritter time away and flitter to flurry by like a butterfly once a flutterby to the end of the day what does it all mean? The toll of the bell wish, are you well? how are the folks? We like spokes in a wheel go round and round ’til we feel better fitter flitter…

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Shakespeare’s brother, Broccoli

wow wow and one more wow you should have seen her lips that tasted of lemon verbena and what a dressing that is. She served me up and that’s no great matter, I lay back delighted, a lost in love sole on a platter there’s a theme I’ve seen her she whistles my signature tune…

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Crab pate

Patience? we’re all bloody patients in the new Bethlehem where men are men and sometimes Napoleon, patience? I have lots…

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Pieces

There is nothing to see but broken please move along to platform five. Dreaming of poverty thinks nineteenth century. nearer to me my god! They walk the plank to get food from a bank? There is nothing to see but broken…

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Silks

The iconoclast may have the last say, God seems to have had his or her day and things move on, but if God has truly gone where does it leave me? up a gum tree? (well at least I may bag a bargain) it’s hard then to deny the denier who would destroy with impunity…

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Strolls through Sherwood

When your mind is blank and you’re writing performance poetry even though you know it will tank, it’s a sticky bud poetry and it will not let go of me so I try so I cry but I will write if it kills me, the reaper wonders why I bother oh brother another critic ready…

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The 27th phenomenon

28 June 2016 at 16:40 · London · The day that God died was a Thursday not one in the congregation tried to save him perhaps they expected a miracle which would have been a miracle had one happened Now God had been a smiter and done his fair share of smoting I’m noting here…

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Breakfast in Brighton

I’m holding my breath because I need something to do with my hands when I’m not holding you. In an unconditional surrender I still bend to her will. When I need to exhale I hold on to the thought as if caught in her net she lets me wriggle I giggle and the schoolboy escapes…

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The pixel collators

They’ll try to overwrite me with what they say’ll delight me, not bleedin’ likely says I. There’ll be no final curtains for these internal workings no not bleedin’ likely says I. That movement afoot is ready to kick me from pillar to post and the most I could hope for has already left by the…

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Someone said

Made of clay or it was yesterday, the colours seem to collide and my eyes melt into the scenery, Concrete! definitely, but somehow soft like the sand or the donkey shit. I could rebuild it but it wouldn’t be the same, People would forget the original name as I too would be forgotten. Shadows here…

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Live feed

Wednesday? and I want to play with the friends that I made in a dream. But I wake up and take a stake in the day burnt toast with a café au lait (that’s French tha’ knows ) I started to whistle in tune with the kettle took two of those tablets that settle the…

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Involuntary detox

This morning although I tried to write it was quite impossible, I was pressed up tight against what I dare not say, the underground rush is a hell of a way to start any day anyway I could not get to my pen, ( being penned in is a falsehood ) so I wrote with…

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Second on the left and through the door marked tomorrow

The sands will trickle on until the mountain’s are all but gone and the seas turn their backs on the land Daylight will crash and break and inhaling shards of white glass will take my breath away and it’s here for a day and done no point to linger on the journey we make’s just…

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The summer song

We’ll turn into parchment or vellum this heat is hell on your skin. Garters to keep up my socks pectoral muscles hard as rocks a stiff upper lip and an active mind i think you’ll find that I’m in working order. Not ready yet for the knackers yard or for the great referee to give…

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Earlier times

I’m trying hard not to think of taking a drink at this time in the morning but the day’s like a chasm that I cannot bridge and there’s two pints of electric sat in the fridge, voltage for my tonsils, how to justify this trying defeats me and the drink’s sat there leering, saying come…

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Runway number four

I wake to wingtips spreading out from fingers wrapped around a gun, the Sun decides to rise and risk my wrath, Monday blasts away and I’m shot down here to London, not like my home town but close enough with traffic comes and sleeping dogs that try to wake the sleeping policemen, Kentucky, pizza, ham…

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