No ones
Ever seen me before
So what could they be after?
He who would valiantly be
Gainst all disaster
Like Gregory Peck
In that church
When he raised his dagger
I know I'll get shot
But who will
Communicate
What goes after?

I've only had
One dog
That was truly mine
He got euthanised
When I was seven
To me he was hardly alive
Me auld fellah
Brought him back
From Lambourne
When he laid the roads
A fat beagle type mungral
Clumsy
But his love fully exposed
My memories are hazy
He exists now
Only in a Polaroid
From Christmas morning
Leaning heavy on me
In my cowboy uniform.

My brow ridge itches
It throbs
And aches
I can feel my family
And all that it takes
To walk my way
Round the place
Where I live
Three hundred thousand
Years
It takes
To forgive
All the things
We did in that gap
Now facing forward
We should know the things that we lack.

When Steve McQueen
Bounced his *****
Off the wall
When Butch and Sundance
Defied time's
sweet  call
And then Bill Murray
Made sense of it all.

Now that we have
The papacy
Let us enjoy it
The need
Back then
There was no need
To alloy it
Like the poisoning
A century before
There was no chance
To ignore it
But it was business
As usual
Through the Pomp
Through the  ****
Too big to fail
Too fat to quit.

When Bill Bixby
Came to television
To wander the wastes
The apprehension
Was palpable
1978

I was on vacation
In Butlins holiday camp
You couldn't get in the TV room
The hype was truly ramped

And when Ferrigno
Turned up
The whole place
Lost its mind

We licked the glass
And banged on it
It was so good
To be alive.

And that's without
Talking about
Jack McGee.

Imagine your lymbic system
Got infested with AI
Maybe it's already happened
An explanation
Wouldn't seem
Like a lie
If you couldn't
Tell the difference
If you thought
It came from you
If they held you down
And explained it
What would That mean
To you?

Wence does it come?
Where doth it go?

Round the corner?!
I don't know!

A cat on a wall
In this oppressive
Evening heat
It still seems
So cool
While it's fur
Clearly
Gives no relief
But it full knows
What the humans
Don't know
Don't have a shout
All else
From humanity
Laughs
Knowing
What
Will
Come
About.

Why would it start
On a Monday?
Seems a bit
On the nose
Wouldnt you say?
Surely it makes more sense midweek
To start
The Satanicness then
On behalf
Of those
Who believe
The goat
And all of his ways
Their aims
Won't be remote
But will be
Deffo believed.

Them that score goals
Don't generally
Write songs
And if they do it's
Not often that great
And have you seen them songwriters
Upon the sacred field?
They at least
A couple o seconds
Too late.

Working both floors
Like Joe Calzaghe
A flurry unrelenting
The nous to back off a bit

Moulded from a lad
By his dad
The cool Enzo
Who took over
When his trainer
Went silenzio

Bolstered the gym
Raised two other
World champions
In the small town of Newbridge
How could that have happened

Pushed Joe
When he was not sure
On and on and on
His boy he implored

To look within
And find more than himself
Through bust hands
And self doubt
Till there's nowt left

Enzo knew
Joey was about
To destroy
Three killers
Before he clocked out.

The elephants graveyard
Used to be underwater
So there be whales there
A necropolis like no other
And when the seas rise again
And cover it over
Might be
An amalgamation
Of one with the other.

What's black,white and red
And has trouble getting through
A revolving door?

A nun with a spear through her head.

At guessing people's age
I am no good
I either insult
Or leave em feeling extra smug.

Don't look now
But Sutherland's
Chewing
Christie's kebab.

There's a scaffold
Outside my flat window
They fixing the roof
At least I hope
That's what it's for.

Under a diseased elm
Found a shady place to lay
Not much of a breeze
Watched the doggies
Tumble and play
A platoon of crows
Tighten a circle round me slow
The edges of my vision dim
It might be time to go

One fine day
In the middle of the night
Two dead men
Got up to fight
Back to back
They faced each other
Pulled their swords
And shot each other.

Is that fog or steam
Misting up your dreams?
The details are there
But swaythed  in smoke
Laughing at the punchline
Without hearing the joke

Knowing where you going
But clueless about the route
You'd cut across country
But the terrain just doesn't suit

That old tree looks familiar
An that rock
And barn
Are you going round in circles?
From dusk until the dawn.

Something's whacky
Your face a solid frown
******* your senility
You've got your map
Upside down.

Simon Munnery said
"All men are brothers,
Hence war!"
Brought forth
Straight faces
Gentle titters
Loud guffaws
Cain and Able
Romulus and Remus
And the Dasslers
Not forgetting of course
The bow legged Gallaghers
But sometimes it doesn't have to be that way
Angus and Malcolm
Matt and Luke
The Greenwoods
All displayed
You don't have to be at war
With your brother
Don't have to
Get smacked in the mouth
Don't have to
Go home and cry to our mother.

What's the most unrealistic American pirates
Are prepared to spend on an audiology check up?
A buck an ear.

Sometimes
I do it immediate
Unthinking and smooth
Like a YouTube vid
Of well practised worker
Droned out in his groove
Others it quite pathetic
A full ten minute production
Am i teasing it the right way
Rub
Pull
Blow
Even desperately applying suction.

The mocking bird stands careful
Atop the cactus
in the heat
It drops its load
And flys off
It's yearly part in this complete
The droppings contain
A parasitic mistletoe seed
At night comes forth a tendril
When the host begins to breathe
It slowly wends its way in
Deep into the flesh
Reliant on the moisture
In which it sweetly rests
It's sits there near a Calendar
Then bursts out
In a Blossom
Of blood crimson red
Humming birds drink of its nectar
The cactus half near dead
Then at last the mistletoe
Bears its fruit
And the Mocking bird returns
To feast the cycle off once more
It's nutrition duly earned

How does a penguin build its home?
Igloos it together.
Cos penguins live in igloos.

Cheap
Silent
Disposable
Regrettable
Leaves a bit of a mess as well
Not exactly forgettable
Joy
Boredom
Irritation
Relief
We will try again of course
Though it always brings grief.

Measure your life in tournaments
Month long gorges
On the ball
It helps you
To quantify
And organise
The thoughts
And memories
Of it all
That make up
Some bits o your life
Comparative by recall
The moments of high drama
That held you fast enthralled.

Have you got enough
To do it?

How's your supply?
Will it see you through it?

And those who
Gather round
Are they here for you?
Or just gossip bound?

Ration now thy scant resources
Lest there be some
Harsh recourses.

The static is somewhat harsh today
Harmonised with the strip light abuzzing
Went to see a genius last night
The crowd
Silent and loving
One man
A Telecaster
And a hi hat
That was all it took
To hush a sold out drunken throng
New stuff
But hits not overlooked
Codeine and hash for my gimpy hip
***** for the way it feels
Still
***** Bill Callahan
Still brought me to my knees.

Leonard said
Everybody knows
Now that he's dead
It'd be shocking
To suppose
That
God is dead
And all that
There all that
Would diagnose
In the long run
What everybody
Knows.

If you've listened to to the rhythm
O the drivin rain
Telling you
Just what a fool
I've bin
Then surely
You can listen
To the retracted pain
Of telling you
I would begin again.

There is a thing about
Putting a thing about
In a place
That makes it easy to do it
That makes the folks
That  might
Have had less of a light
If this website
Had maybe
Just
Eschewed it.

Wait for the rain
To no longer remain
Shelter under trees
Till it  decides to wain
And then stride forth
To begin once again
No longer concerned
To be
Dry
Ever  again.

How would one know?
Where would one go?
On a ledge
That keeps on getting thinner
You breathe down my neck
You talk only of death
I shake you off
And then
Go to where
The air gets
Skinnier.

That. How come you don't regress in a train
When you jump up and land again ?
Is a bit o a betrayal
It talks about
The way that we teach
The whacky constructs
That need more explaining
Than what we keeping talking
About
Again
Could we
Keep talking
To the end
Of which
There is no doubt.

When everything's empty
When everything's done
How long will you linger
Before you move on
You tickled me there
Don't know if it was meant
But you smiled
As I ******
Beyond
Recompense
And now what are we?
What did we become?
As you walk away
I've got me eyes
On yer mum.

Do you remember them **** jokes from the eighties?
Windsurfers do it standing up
Why should you not wear Russian ******?
What's the difference between Shankly and Sadat?
A lot of em ended up as
T shirts
Posters and that

That's how much we used to love comedy
It certainly boosted the seaside economy

Now laughter is suddenly checked
What you mean by that?
I'll throw a hex
After the initial involuntary response
It is now a bit dodgy
To lampoon a *****

The idea you can
Corral the chuckles
Fits I suppose
With a society buckled

But try cancelling
A rouge AI
It'll laugh it your face
And then plan how you die.

It's the fuel and the juice
It's the ******* excuse
Some say it's the fathers ruin
It was born of the need
When water needed the ****
To filter out some of the poison
It's was the grease
That we oiled
To forge
The forge
never spoiled
Where our models
Of the future rolled out
Some say
We should cut it
To the smallest amount
But you'll always find me
On the end of a spout.

They always start
With a disembodied radio voice
Over a black screen
That fades up
To a blissful domestic breakfast scene

The voice is halfway through
A mundane story
Then another that hints
At how things
Might get gory

But at the moment
All is serene
This house is where love is
And has always been

It unfolds slow
Stopped clocks
Missing signals
Distant screeching brakes
Then unlikely explosions
As humanity shakes

What is it?
What is it?
What is it?
they cry
Along with the viewers
You and I

We the audience
Know the template
Yet the nervous expectation
Makes us contemplate
If it was me what would I do?
Succumb like a *******
Or survive through
The gloom?

I'll meet you
In the Rothko Chapel
We'll get a private view
I know some people
It'll be no hassle

Fourteen
Big canvas
In various black
We could stay there all week
We might never come back

Or as long as we can't take it
Raw emotion

Mostly dark

Go out through the emergency exit
Into the
Surrounding
Sunlit
Verdant
Park.

The death's head dagger
Your grandad
Took off of
That dead ****
The scooter
From the chase
Of Diana's paparazzi
That banner that read
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED
When George W
Landed that fighter
On that warship
In the Persian gulf
Good luck
Selling that stuff.

Mark Rothko said it was always with him
No skull and crossbones needed
As through the canvas
You go swimming
He cared not for
Narrative
Or subtext
And such
Just how it made
You feel
Down deep
In your guts
The terror
The love
Overwhelming weight
That of history
And suffering
Belonging
And hate
Like smudged details of the universe
Doors without locks
A place he didn't put messages
A dead letterbox.

The oceans know
What goes on
Upon land
And we're  told often enough
That's not true
On the other hand

We know more about the surface of the the moon

Well of course we do
It's much smaller
And there's no water
To add to the gloom

But you've got to wonder
What's down there
Biding it's time
Monitoring the air.

A ring of bright water
And one of
Guinness fire
Which one you wake up with
Depends on
Why you're alive

You can't outrun
The post office
They've got their tendrils
Everywhere
You see what they done
To them poor
Sub posters
The Stasi
Took more care

Take your time
But know
The point of
It's too late
Or not
You know?
The other way round
In desperation
And filth
It shall be found
At any time
And in any place
In the jolly old town.

How would one know
And where would
One go
When the
Nature
Of
Everything
Can
Never
Be changed

He beat em all
Way beyond the practictal recall

Cant be ignored
In spite of all implored
Thats how it went down
Right down to the ground
When any decency
Went beyond
Ultrasound.

When you fly
Across oceans
Do you know where you are?
This goes out too all
Is this what you thought of?
Did you think of the mountains
And the people
There in
Did you think of your footprint
And it's pattern
Therein
?

Why would you not
Express your loss?
In all it's glory
In all it's heat
In the way
You felt it
In the way it was
As you conflate
Your family
And them that don't care
You'll find a way to express it
So candidly
Even if death is not proud
As I think
Mostly it's not
Still you can say it
Outloud.