Wednesday, November 23, 2011


the pair
of them were wild
when they got together
dancing like hares in the purple



her ass
carried Jesus
to the holy city
he used hers as it was just so


Monday, November 21, 2011

vampires in self-help therapy

oh lordy
saw the next door neighbour a thin woman
made all overtures but she fixedly stared elsewhere
perhaps at some vision

of the Undead walking my doctor says you are a monster
by which she means me
you are unwholesome, she says
you will predate upon us regardless of the damage
you may do
yes I say thinking about it, I guess
but we are bad for each other
and have only humans as possible mates
so how about it? me and you, Doc?
I won't bite too hard and then
you will be cursed too
suddenly the clouds will seem nearer
the Sun brighter
the green more vivid
and the shades more intense
sex will improve
you will ache all day to get home
but the deep beneath will grow deeper
you will understand with a wolf-fervour
everything you look at

take this, she says, once a day
for three months

is it I ask a prescription for blood capsules?

no she says, take it anyway
we'll come back to this later

later indeed
me and her watch TV in bed sucking on little Arabian lollipops
both of us mad with desire for air and blood
stroking each other's furry legs and laughing
at the funny humans up there

thin neighbour strangely never etc


Friday, November 18, 2011

internetted by adipose

even to believe even to project
those flickers upon that wall
was fancy as the fine fancies
of French fancies that fairied
till their heads went so it has been
with us and our fay icing all
the spray and cloisters and weft
even there some organs lifted
as though the outset of film
and suddenly a great animal
that leapt into the room, then
cried, startlingly, no I am just
joking, well then so are we all


great mouths that come at you and keep coming

the keyboard in its own desire that
shoves a new shape before the sitter
and sender the subject and pig

in acts of slow love the woman
puts the gun in the mouth of the sleeping man
collapsed by the memory foam bed
blows it off down his throat
out his ass through the bed
through the floor
through the head
of the old lady in the room downstairs
who doesn't miss a beat
lower still into the sack of shit
she been wanting to remove forever
but never has
petrol can in there explodes house burns down
etc screams, mostly silence

shit she didn't mean
but hey


threeways at least in the sewers of philosophy

he's male, she says
so must be prurient
all night must have visions of women
fucking pigs being raped stripping whirling
opening themselves to the dead gynaecology
of dead males only knowing a dead love
dying themselves down in the arms
of that imagined dead goddess
who quacked through the bars
of their cots

without her, she says
he would die

yeah but

she says males need genetic modification by females
yeah but in everything you are
you been doing that for a million years

this is what you chose
this half-fledged warrior unsocialised and someways dead
yearning to come home
now so far away so unwelcome



Thursday, November 17, 2011


grown a beard
looks way too weird
gonna get sheared


Wednesday, November 16, 2011

three and sixteen odes to a forgotten entonox

unedited<333>fragment:have you yet come to kill me


filled with uncertain resentment/her demeanour
shifts to new obsession
world now world upon which
to be true that in the heart
of spurted dankness we find only the disease
that this gas and liquid will kill you quicker
than God or what?you have to come now
I'm not he's down here somewhere.shades the best
that could be'll be okay.each day the tendrils
the filaments grow
wings and limbs soon a monster a chimera.the old man
with pipes in the hospital bed rousing the whole ward
with his piping
this surely is what we are in for.incarceration its own
definition and desperate things scurrying deep
dying on TV in the final reality show
before some unspeaking breakfast in bed

now, Ibrahim, say is near dawn
my love my love so silent and inedible
such cries now aghast in the upper air
while all night I have been unpacking
this, the same parrot
over and moreover

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

as suddenly an ironbird flew out

the day driving over those books maybe
those passes of wild smoke over the hills
these things were irreplaceable
when that man stepped out and we knocked him down
we entered first the negative always history
the feelings then of such bespoke cake
what now is the name of that house
but the new thing of hardship
only ever again a wandering wild thing
that came from the woods in flames
all down the hillside of Honister Pass we rejoiced
in the flames of games now our very clothes speaking
of your new obsessions one can say nothing
just the earthly endless bells of dead lead
which do not knell well
if at all
in the bridewell


Saturday, November 12, 2011

on the pale wind of moving house

if it could be said if at all
that some Odd Men had come amongst the deer
one must venture that they had found their way there
and were now enamoured of the fleeting white bottoms
of this selfsame family of ungulates or perhaps
cone-eaters or fish-heads as the movement
of crates or plates in the Earth

there is a haunting thing stamp above.

at night one sits alone and hears boots on floorboards
where no boots etc. one considers it ill
but heeds to the greater silence that grows
outside and regardeth it not much

only, though, an owl with two heads
at the back of it all
an owl such an eek of a wild owl
tap he goes there or is it squirrel?
some creature beyond name
that would be in, in

fairy maybe, scrabbling up the wet wall
looking close for fractures and cold food


Wednesday, November 09, 2011

ruptures that just go on

well bless your piece of self-control
the dinosaur-mouthed wife with a bag says
to the anger that even now the wild fruit
a shapely thing as of disaster and romance
what huge clouds what an evening and thinning
stark island costs from the shop mind you
it never makes a sound
everyone wild as coots what just leapt
such things
between you and me what fancies of falling
all day the erstwhile gunshots


the discovery of many broken Victorian ornaments in a lake

the child strikes another child in the playground
the caretaker fetches a spanner and opens his head
the teacher is taken to discuss things
with a child psychologist
the sun zooms in
a goat leaps over the fence, runs wild butting
the boys on the basketball yard
suddenly squirrels stare down evilly
from surrounding trees
the bigger boys, some as old as eight
gather together, angry but resourceful

then in a huge wave they attack the squirrels
all over the playground boys kick squirrels

no one knows now what the Law says about any of this

some music.a half turn.a bust of an ancient local dignitary

at the last an aged master runs forth with a viola
smites the under-manager of the gauleiter
janitor inquisitor servitor breaks it into atoms but
atoms by def cannot the wild diet and song

the under-manager sees alternatives now
he gathers the boys, issues them with Glocks

the squirrels fall back in a skirmish line
throwing explosive cones


Sunday, November 06, 2011

everything that couldn't be

a man in black clothes billows by the telegraph
tell me something
I don't know

deer out the window
eyes closing/there is a radio
that shuts and starts and starts
that brings messages from far-off Russia
saying you out there do you hear
are you dancing tonight westerners?
are you making love?

everything even the fridge has stopped
the night the cold the river
draw breath
as a single hedgehog steps into the garden

all of us poised like that
cracking slowly into the bushes


Wednesday, November 02, 2011

hounds of the fearful red spanics

her head is tourmaline maybe montelimar
her ass is a scaffolded oak tree covered in chains
her belly is all of Bellona and the rushing
the gods of ash gather here like downpours
are you stupid? white this low rain
the king of Spain. it confuses everyone
the entire idea of transparent ashtrays. they are low
low.dirty things bang bang.the eleophant and ciastle.
so lucky so beautiful. that sliding slow.god appears
as a platypus.many folks in dun drink from him.
back in the library a wild hound


mental illness in these frequent lights

you are running down a forest ride
then it's all choked with debris
nowhere to turn
just no way forward
your strategies have run out
for this moment you are nowhere
it stretches
where you gonna go, baby?
outside the drums the singing
the cars revving up
ready to take you
drop your guns
and hear the News
sliding off the edge
eggs hitting the floor from hens
that didn't care too much
rats running in licking everything
witch children licking butter pats
ennervating traffic light blue-orange
the book fever low as gravedigs
lamplight and headlight sweated in the grass
the black moist
sliding in
looking down from this aghast collapse
at the gate of the Messiah
shit let's walk out long the river
throw in a body
see what gives
what rises
nothing like this for romance

I waylay at the leastest we look