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Confessions of a Handyman

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Just seems shameful like
I tried and fooled about with art
for the best part of a golden era
& give or take a mock heroic epic or two
but as the epoch crumbled
I took fright, stepped back &
stole away in search of anonymity

How I nimbly skipped on past tackles
sidestepping young bucks trip wires

and scented mantraps
playing the tough guy with no future
dismissive of  the tedious now

time spent wild carding subdued by booze
short changing a second hand self

umbrella firms of ill wind repute
tried to memorize each one in order
before sidling up for the holy drop for elevenses
But I stopped it and plunged head last
into a teeming bramble wilderness,
inhabited by malicious stingers
vindictive vicious barbs.
Cold vaincautious glances exchanged
when eye contact was declined

went walkabout in phantom seas
fad spiralling stoned dizzy alice selfies
smugly looking down on
while smiley vultures congregate below
soon to part at the pace of Ra
before I again plummet
bumping into roaming spheres
the forgotten fear of falling
came back with a vengeance

pulling out now is no easy ride
boiling hot flesh pies mel
under withered skin
long lost conchshells
appear round the bend
rockaby baby spotted snugly safe
under silky green lush green canapace

For It had beeen slow to warm of late
outswung hanging at the end of a rope
ghoulish freeze framed close up grimace
accompanies a bleary blank stare
passing blurred spectators showing off
discounted marbles queegly in a flurry
of majestic kilts spun while spooning
honeys most generous on steaming farls,

*
So fell I into nanocoma and emerged from it a lost cinque port
Kent became my oyster. It could have been all the world to me…

*
In the beginning was the end and that is the long and the short of it.
One finds out sooner or later Walking on mirrors is not all its crack’d up to be
Call me Omeletto: Anything but Egg ; Housebreaker Bong-Daly
toed the party line without spoiling her nail varnish. Like Beryl Reid
said, it was all about the shoes, which in her nasal snob spoof voice
came over as ‘Shooze’. Why bitch? We’re all just as bad as one another.
Everyone dies ugly.

The swings and roundaboutsm, the ups and downs, the ins and outs, the snakey ladders parading past in viscous toffee cream nylons, recall that wretched sound of a rasping fingernail on plywood. Feverish and seeing things, brain baked dry by sandfly fires.
What happpens net if i drink that orange squash i puked back up in the tumber?
Could have guessed I suppose. Be grown up grab the first thing that comes to hand and cover it up. A precocious uptaker of bad examples, trialing and erring on good for sport.
Embedded dried pea up the nose;
head lost in the clouds; flying twice nightly lightly

All left up in the air, keep the company of freebirds and faulty
military hardware, fearful of flying saucers egged on by cups and spoons…

State of the Union: Distressed

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we all feel down in bad weather
stuck indoors counting blessings
declavring war on last nights washing up
weighing up plusses and minuses
of invisibility and amnesia

bad servant memory skives off
feast days and bank holidays
taking bloody liberties
with the milk of mutant kindness
constrained by clamour
in the pantry garden

the camera never cries
the piecrust never seeped
gravy when you blew it
encouraging the meatball
to make a run for it

The Meagre Benison of Tired Starlings

Eccles

 

 

May rains hail and thunder
all-in-one morning tucked up
Sophia fetches balm for the bundle
Observing unusual proprieties
following hors d’oeuvres
keep the kettle boiling
the nettle coiling
the aspidistra flying
keep the company of doves
brawling in the fountain
over scarce fuck all
intended for the starlings…

Sprogulike

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Aunty Mare and sombre Sky observe
the proprieties at all times
Beyond the me the other hard to pick out
through the wrong end of a spyglass darkly
Ye Gobs! When frisbees roamed the earth
and all the bus tops green canopy
Millicent and Marty sought cover
from true blue meanies
Conceived after bathing at Baxters
glaze your arses and shield you gonads
to bless the pointless little head of Sprog
of Sprog Coriolanuswnd wash him well

The Little Bird Trolled

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Remember reading the Unnameable in identical weather this time last year and the one before.
Same house different room this time. The old lady oppostite was alive last year. Now her stuff is in a skip on the drive.
Saw it from the room I mentioned earlier
History has been made all right. The ulcer was smaller then.
Did a bit out in the sacred garden. Even got out from time to time. Down the pub. Never say Die. Plucky old bird.
Way beyond that now. Place going downhill fast. That leaky lean to aint got long by the llo of it. Much water under the defrosted fridge
Few people call in to pick. The Virus you know…Plus sans change.

Not Grafton St and Cary Grant again I ask you! Back in the day they would neer hae dared to.
When men were men and women were afraid. There are a few more stiffs hanging round tonight
fly dumped on the sub-toxic lawns
Where cats hae spat the rats hae shat the remains of the dubious quorn
And and and what? Gimme a moment Monkey Face. Cary puttles the kettle on.
Christian gets blinded following science and arrives at Vanity Fair. Merciful heavens Collapse
‘Now who left the sky open, on a market day

Still sloobing aroound in housecoat and slippers properly let themsells go;
stale fags and rotten carpets
The place was crawling with americans unknown on facebook
settling old scores with paramours
proscribing all transgressions
born of a Badland
A feud that threatened to spill over and consume the world
supply of oxygen and intolerance.

Dialogue’s a bugger to write when the voices talk at the same time.
One takes short cuts like making most
of it up. Usually sounds better that way.
They bolted at his every word
What are they saying over there by the elephant’s foot?
How big elephants must be?
Silly
More like it really…
Benedict’s a scream when you get to know him
But he can be so…abrasive
His old girl came from there
Shows in the wash
True. So true

Ransack & Plunder…(Cry me a Zither)

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Dragged
away from the unhappiness
contest after losing the plot
mapping out cities razed of people
sequin-cloaked in the steady opulence
of Sunday a teatime chastising errant aphids.
Sanctifying
euthanasia for the financially challenged
after
a small amontillado
a bout of imbecility
during a toccata & fugue
at a recital down the orangerie
Picture
a Flower sat down to take stock
a surefire cure for insomnia
she dreamt that as she slept off the trance.

But how could this be so?
Without him there was no world to speak of
he would not be there to overlook.

He turns the radio back on and settles
down to the sound of meteorites
raining on the corrugated roof of the temenos.

The world was waking up
from its ransack

Insurrection Blues (Guess we have no Therl Baps Monsieur)

 

jaw jut

…the third day was by far the worst
our enemy the clement weather

as ever
said weather soon aligned itself to passive lamentation
and gentled us with suspect serenades

An inaudible gasp oft precedes the sacrificial therl baps
wherein a sharp intake of breath soon follows
Just try to imagine the look on his face
at the shock that overcame her self
when with numbers crunched up the gravel stairwell
and found us broken up like aggregate

Very like a legion jackboots stamping down hard on innocent faces worldwidely…

 

 

 

 

Captain Tom Pulls it Off!

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As Fizz bomb # 3 looms  big watch sunset smites dystopian manifesto probe;

clear sky thinking slowly sinking proffers us a frosty night; more beds than meds and
staff upset; liberty ships come at what cost?

Eye for the main chance that one; gets the job done mind you. Never hook a flounder after midnight or overlook a gift horse in your face; two fingers offer up a blind spot afore you go.

No look before leap opt out elsewise; refuse or nimbly fencesit riding shotgun for the pigs
Unprepossessed of full fat free range facts and fingers; thus impeded by a bunch of fives till dukes issue a halt to hilarity;
the wicker vicar throws a tantrum in a crowded one stop shop; why just stand giving out incendiary bon mots; head balled is no surprise;

An abbreviated nap follows rural retreat;
wait and see now ennit. Ennit never comes clean. To pull the other one: an invite to allcomers. RSVP. OUI. Four ponds and eighty two stents and cheap at half the price.
Stagnant wet fish market. Sinister Culverts? You bet your ass on that Nelly.

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