manifestival
pen shocking intensity
in the burning hand…
(short pause for cold tap water)
Now then where was i?
Blog said, it’s finished isn’t it?
I looked down trying
To think up a diversion
The carpet spat flames
My toes were afire
I have no carpet
(long pause for suffocation)
Oxygen flees in whimsy
The bees have not knees
manifestly
Situation abNormal
Each and Everyone fucked-up
—hear no meets Zeno Evil
Llamas debasement grotesque apartment
Crime of defacement breaking up discouragement
Wind weathered true blue purchasing new health food
Dead geraniums ooze oilslick crude
Drongo emerges in bits
Feverishly exiting crumpled
recidivist’s drunken carcass
black tank prison stint
Blackness thick as creasote lint
Inky pinky molasses
Sado the Gaoler steals a parting kiss
Through cracked thin pursed lips
Chokes on wreaking Treacle
spattered malodorous pelt
Obstinate bowels make last
Opiated loony stand declare:
Get scrubbling hobo: self, dwelling, pots & pans
Get fed up hobo, get water, learn about money
Sort it out this next week, clear headed, full of hope
Those just past were the
annihilate days of cynical grumbles
Everyone left is old or sick
Learn to play misty again
Sport Roberta Flack jacket
Long hot shower ahead shop
…
So you think you can
get away with writing bling?
Get scrubbling Bobo
If you wannabe a Dylano
Learn how not to sing
Like Perry Como
…
Seeing and being seen, thought Our Johanna, avoiding the mirror the nervy curtain call. October slumped and flu jabbed lies twitching on the sofa, lookin’ for a gofer, time-Honoured joker, flaky, shaky feeble hand…
Mary-Anne—whatever happened to Mary-Anne?
Got carried off in a big white van,
maimed her old man
half a gallon, rustic jam
Bubbling away in a frying pan
Clung to his hair like a Rubberband
…Will Quince fulfilled his fruity pastoral duties
sound bitten realists winced when they misheard…
Put in a shift—3 hours liquid refreshment
He’s still there waving & grinning
and wish as hard as I can it remains
Shorty – the ghoulish clown:
giant daisy in a crimson bowler,
mouth like a lewd, purple inner tube.
Striped, hoola-hoop held pantaloons
hanging off Moorish orange braces
glowing lime green socks
in burnt brown boots.
Everything is blog
Post it immediately
Editing is dead
End of time for reflection
Winter Palace mirrors purr
marrow cosh express forgiveness for sins bless you now you're free to go death queen's bed confession keep it in the family eyes are the whores of the mind keep it in the family pictures on the radio mind's eye cinema
Pope meets Archbishop —
they make love, clean up, and part
on amicable terms
Out of my brain at
Five fifteen
The dreaded words slide
Out:
‘Why not stick on the
Downton Abbey Finale?’
As soon
As they slipped from my mouth
A mighty echo
Expanded to explosion
And with a drawl portended
‘Surely, this Soap was
the
Soap
Of God’
End
Of Empire
