Sidewinder

I feel sometime like ’89 and others 1962, through each Alice looking glass I pass and see, ’45 and 1923 roaring in and out of me, whistling down some avenue near 5th and Main, see how I’m blue and full of pain and the year of sometime begins again, but where I share this little…

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The estate

Commercial poverty an empty property? there’s money in muck or so they say. Vacant faces say it all no need for writing on the wall and who could read it anyway? Education in the pay of politicians. They dumb us down to line us up to knock us down, intelligence is frowned upon and yet…

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Mixer

Picasso palette blue, you and I, the summer, early morning sky painting dreams on a passing butterfly. Perfect…

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Blip

I, the transponder, the dot, moving the signals. receiving, a spot in the air, sometimes here, sometime there, emitting, cutting through silence, the dot. It’s not what we are or where and not that I’m bothered if anyone cares, I, the transponder, sometime like alltime responsive, the dot. The program reprogrammed initialised and so far…

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Heatwave

Potage Parmentier, the smell of it everywhere and you just know that the summer is here, cool ginger beer and a dip in the pond, though I’m fond of the beer and not so fond of the pond, an ice cream cone, days away from the home and the smell of ozone by the sea…

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A desperate hand

A foreverness, a looking glass that looks into endlessness full of emptiness, unhappiness and a corner, chipped, that spreads the image resigned to hopelessness. I have an empathy with these things that look but do not see, these minutes fixed to an eternity, if I am free, If I unwind, if I ever find the…

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Gazump

Ballerinas on points on the point of a pin and the Angels, poor Angels don’t get a look in…

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Catching quicksilver

There’s a cotton wool ball where my head used to be, runny eyes, runny nose and that’s how it goes on a Wednesday in May, I may take a hot drink I think that I will with some lemon and honey, I may take a pill but as yet I’m unsure if there’s a cure…

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The optical collision

After all we’re just an accident of interstellar dust that fell to earth and formed a crust and out of this we rose to be the cruel man of humanity, but each tide turns as do the stars about the universal scheme, this accident, this birth, this fall to earth, this dust, this crust is…

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The neighbourhood

There are those down the bookies and them in the butchers and they’re all a bit hooky, a right bunch of wrong ‘uns, young guns. The police don’t have a clue, but you know what? they’re all tooled up too, and what for? for a war on the streets blood down the drains, making widows…

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…that hidden thought

I always die before we sleep, a minute more in which to keep you in my sight a moment longer in your light. I always die before we sleep the way in which the deep night falls as darkness calls me and I sink into your eyes I think that everybody dies at least once…

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September…

…or last night it doesn’t matter much because neither time was quite right, but it will be whenever that might be and here or there or wherever we are, whatever we do and become, you and I will learn to fly and together we’ll soar over the mountain tops, explore the rainbows and I’ll watch…

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Elements

There is chemistry but she’s testing me, periodically we sit at the table and talk. I walk her home she drives me mad, then she pouts her lips and my world slips a gear…

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Pacmen

There’s a program that they’re building and it’s filling all the blanks in while erasing all our memory, they’re rewriting us a history, selected from an almanac taken from a better time or so they say, but it’s a fiction fostered by the state to keep the populace in place and happy as can be,…

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Cruise control

In the confusions which pass through the glass of my eyes and where the smoke puts a choke hold on me I wrestle with my identity and if it fits me or not. An Illusion which goes by the name I am known but never shown to the people at large, there’s a hope I’ll…

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Setting the pace

Of course the town’s not the same anymore, they’ve painted the monuments gold and they tore down the church doors, kicked out the old whores, the hobo, the wino, the addicts, picked up the pimps and sent them to death row, shot down in flames every side show that decided to show, closed all the…

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Chef Sunil. another life in the day of a workmate.

He had the Taj Mahal in his eyes, the spice of death that ran through his hands produced some fine dishes, we gorged on the emptiness and drank fully of the feast, we wanted to capture him in action but had no time lapse photography, relentlessly he pursued perfection, perilously close to the precipice he…

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42 days in the desert

Hooked into the dynamo I go with the flow around with the tyre attached to a wire I fall free concrete and steel, tell me how does it feel when the blood shows a route that I’ve mapped, with sellotape on my legs I beg for assistance from strangers, no danger of them hearing this,…

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The velocipede

Keying in the wheels that spin and spinning in the wind. Unlocking locks that turn the clocks and holding hands with time. Opening hopes that open doors that open windows in the mind. The infinitesimal decimal shift that lifts us up above and the love like greed we need to feed, spinning in the wind…

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