Repeating rifles

It doesn’t matter when they’re dead what they said about what you read about dead is about the matter. Anti what? what he wanted was a scale model aero, not a scarecrow and he was that and more. But the night closed down, the door was shut, the candles lit, the corners cut and what…

Read More

Spring cleaning

Blank. a white screen in a white room on a bright day just before noon, blank, but the morning pulls me into and back to the full house where the family sat to dine. The church of many a memory comes into the limelight haunting me, the hissing lamps of long ago never know when…

Read More

The banana business

To die? oh, how dire, send her a wire and buy her a ring. Mistaken, I take the wrong lane yet again to be railroaded. In sequential notes that I know that she notices my motives outline the truth. She hits the roof but forgives me my trespass, a biblical lass in a class of…

Read More

April showers

Blew it? screw it and do it again. Along the avenues where the looks accuse and they starch the curtains white. No moral. I attribute this kiss of denial and death to the hot Summer breath in the light evening air, she was there, but it wasn’t her who led me to the water and…

Read More

The twenty fifth coin

To imagine no cross, no hill, imagine the turn of the Word, the World still. I have broken in places I can’t even name. Each break unlike one, but one and the same and where pain meets the Sunrise I have watched it through sad eyes. To imagine is dandy and handy at times and…

Read More

One finer day

Ready, Get set. Are we there yet? always I am before you can guess swings on a chess board held tight by the wire cord, more movement less haste and let’s not waste the moment. French polish by the half German, the other half is from Basildon, seeing reflections in the residues of a war…

Read More

Atmospherics

..and then I think of them when I wake and the whole day breaks in two, I wonder if they think of you, I thought. It never really matters who it is that shatters the dream the result it seems is the same. They say, give a dog a name and he’ll remain a dog…

Read More

Time share.

It was the man with the scythe that cut the night from my eyes and the sand in my feet turned to clay. I watched from the window as he came my way, watched as he closed out my day. When all was dimmed and the swallow skimmed low in the thinning of time yet…

Read More

The fireplace writings

we get to get more and we give and give less and yet profess to be Christians that walk with civilians. in whose army could we be if we don’t see the starving? if we don’t lend our eyes to the poor?…

Read More

Chess

To pick up this chewed end pen and when no one is looking and wondering why I want to jam the chewed end pen in my eye, the left one will do and I want to ram it right through until it hits a nerve or possibly two. I can spew out a rhythm with…

Read More

The lodge street bazaar

Painted in shades of dirty old brown standing down there on Bulk road at the bottom of the town was the Hotel. Ah well they called it other things too, but we knew it as the Tramway, a name that harked back to a distant day of the past. Father raised a glass or two…

Read More

The lathe

The light in the window reflects back at me and as I look out there’s only darkness I see, is it I that reflects on the night or the night that’s a reflection of me? First ask of the week, first task of the weak to get strong finding a place to belong finding a…

Read More

Wire walker

The red glass of wine a cool thief of my time and my will. I ferment with these grapes for as long as it takes, each one is a brother to me. Every bouquet has a balance they say, but I can’t balance when I’ve quaffed a few and I do overbalance on balance I…

Read More

The 25th entrance

Forever I feel that nothing is real and nothing’s the deal dealt to me. Under the sign that says, Freeway I pay with one more day. There’s a foot fall I call, but nobody hears, everyone fears what they cannot see. In the doorway a wino having the time of his life oh, but he…

Read More

The woodcutter

A part of me dreams in pictures on screens and some of me sits at reality’s door. Knock Knock who’s there? I heard a bird ‘it was no nightingale, but a storm petrel looking for a ship under sail on the high sea and a part of me knows it was only a dream. I…

Read More

Memory

She was here washing her face yesterday morning, years ago…

Read More

Waifs and strays

If I plant all my tears and wait fifty years perhaps they will turn into Sunshine. It’s time something did for too long have I hid in the shadows. And the shadows are weak, bleak and cold, old like me, maybe not that old, but cold most certainly. The certainty being that the tears if…

Read More

The sound of running feet

Change for the best change for the rest and the zing and the zest follow on. There’s middle ground that we muddle through, work and play, come home, do you? In this the Central zone, the wishbone line I’ve found the time to think aloud amidst the seething, heaving crowd. Nothing’s fair not love or…

Read More

22nd street blues

Hi tech at breakneck, but we all sweat the small stuff. I’ve met enough in my time to fill up a book and on each page a rhyme. But at the last of us we’ll all be back to the abacus. Who needs computers that shoot us so full of shit and bits that can…

Read More

Fire engine red skies

I don’t want to go through or out of back into I just want to stay still. But there’s always the nagging fishwife thought that you ought to show willing almost as if I should die by accepting the shilling, the King and his recompense, but I wasn’t willing to do that so I go…

Read More