Twists

All good things come to a bend in the roadend of part one comes along and before you know it,a commercial break, a word from the sponsorsand in a world of impostersthat’s got to be real. I asked if it was Fridayknowing it was Mondaywishing it was Wednesdaythinking it’s not my dayat all…

Read More

This life

I suppose it’s just a state of mindsomewhat like Narnia or Lilliput,butyou can never beone hundred centsto the dollar,if you follow me…

Read More

Second fleet stowaway

First we criticiseonlylater do we idolisethen we’llimmortalise, men of stonefind their home( set in stone )where else! When they erect a statueof youI’m going to photobomb,nowthat’s a thoughtlet’s see how longit lasts…

Read More

The junk pile

Slept like a logwoke up in the fireplace,yesI know that joke’s ancientbutno older than me. Mondayand a Bank Holidaytoo,I wonderbecause that’s what I dowhat shall I dotoday? Waking upwoke upwakewokesoak in the tubgo down the pubjeezI’m tired already, Christmas is cancelledCovid has wonSanta’s in quarantinescreamingfetch me my gun,ho ho hobut that’s another story…

Read More

Three more hails

Jesus took the day offwent to Brighton by the seatook the holy scripturesbutdidn’t bother telling me, sinner though I may beI have rights enshrined in lawsoI’m gonna sue his ass offand give the son of man what for. I’ll go to hell via Bridlingtonthe lobster capital they say,but Yorkshire men sayowt, tha’ knows, no, it’s…

Read More

Chocolate chips

It’s the bed roll and not the bank roll,but one can always dream. More wine, Vicar?good for the blood andnot so bad for your ticker. Spam in cans orCannes in France?wouldn’t chanceeither of them. Of course,you must understandthat todayis the drift day anda day to float awayon a symphony…

Read More

Interesting formation

The cloud becomes a cockroachor maybe it’s an earwig,I was never big on insectsso I’m guessing it was oneandit moved onnow a lot of facessome with beardsmostly old folksgasping old jokes andsmoking joints(ahI made those the last few lines up)they’re just faces, The sky is one hugemagic slate,waitand new pictures will arrive…

Read More

Autumn service

Yesthe wind’s still blowingthe bells are ringingthere’s a children’s choiron the radio singing,it must be Sunday. The Lord’s day of restwellhe doesn’t have to dohis best to tidy upmove the empty cansand wash the coffee cupsweep the floororiron the shirts,dirt’s where you lookand if you look hard enoughyou’ll find it. I’m going fishin’…

Read More

Songs we used to sing

We know there’ll be an answer forthcomingbecause someone always knows, I used to know a long time agobut things got shuffledthe memory got scuffedand nowI am stuffed if I do. I like to thinkI’m like the telly on the blinkand a coin in the meterwill fix mebutthat kinda thinking justfuks with me. Saturday nightand‘I’m alright…

Read More

Water biscuits

Let us cut the umbilicalslip into the metaphysicalI think that it’s possiblebutyou do have to try. Just more la-di-dahfrom the barkers inthe bazaarwho want to sell youthepromises you’ve seenon the screen…

Read More

When one has to go

The stormsuch as it isneeds bravingsoI am girding my loinsand sharpening my spearwhich should allow meto get there andback to herein one piece. Not at the mo’ thoughI need to gather mystrength and paint ona facealsothere must be somethingelseI can do toput off my departure, any suggestions?…

Read More

Silence is too much

No one hardly talks at alltheyjust write their lives onthe concrete walland call itartworkbutif the heart doesn’t workand you don’t converse? NowCohenbabbled on and onabout the grace of Godand the Baptist, John, I wonder which is worse,the introvert orthe other one,the one that just goes onand on?…

Read More

Traders

Kicking aside the decayingthe merchants are makingtheir way inandsetting up stalls, got to admitthose market men ballsmust be made of steel.they arethe all-weathernothing on the never-nevercash on the head menwho fear no dead men and I complain aboutthe prices…

Read More

Tidal reach

I have no idea why I listento the shipping forecast,but I do and religiously,it’s not like I’m going out yachtingor for a punt in a punt,there’s no sea in Stratfordalthough the name impliesthere was once a ford anywaycan’t afford a boatcan hardly stay afloatand Selsey Billreminds me of an oldPirate…

Read More

Some Thursday

Dismalgrimno chance of megoing outI’m staying inand for the night. No change then?said the old menof which I’m not one. When the sun shinesand the drums beat timeto my time,when the odds of succeedingare slimthat’s where you’ll find mefitting right inuntil thenuntil I am one of the old menI’m staying in…

Read More

The soak

Kayaking in the Klondyke. It looks like the Summerhas gone and done a runner,it’sraining cats and dogsand I’m setting inlogs for the fire,I might be here for some time. I think the reason the season’shave all gone skew-whiffif that’s the right word Ishould useisthey’re confusedI’m confused, the planet’s being used upwe are being used upthe…

Read More

Another regeneration

It’s about ripping stuff outto put new stuff in and you thinkthat it’s pricelessbut it ain’t worth a thing keep ongouging andthe time will comewhen you’ve gouged outthe meaningof what we’ve become…

Read More

Rearranging the mental blocks

Thursdayand I woke up anyway,I’m guessing that’s a win. Just going to go and getmysecond cup of ‘joe’ that’s good(taps on wood)in case the witchesare watching. Sobeyond the ‘dreaming spires’further North,up in the Shiresthe civil war goes on,‘long live the King’but I wokeand I know that he’sgone. Why do it, why waste leadsat on the…

Read More

Inked in

if this is an addictionand writingis that road to perditionthenI’m an addict,tricked by the pen way back, whenthe needles only pumped inmore jackand the pipes only blewout more crack,true what they say,that you never getawayand the noose always hangsloose about you…

Read More

Pencils in

Some lines need to be carvedinto the skin,lines like, ‘who let you in’minus the queston mark,thenin the darkeveryone can read them, as long as fingers traceis about as long asthe human racehas been running, one day we’ll run outof space. I’m tattooingyou in,so I won’tforget…

Read More