Finally we have you
Signed off and ratified

Your tongues cut out
All you can do is spit

Your bodies paralysed
All you can do is baulk

Your cities gentrified
All you can do is trespass

Your sleep disturbed
All you can do is stare

Your world possessed
All you can do is gone.

Your poems written
All you can do is done.


The place where I married
Now 87,000 people gather

Amongst the clatter of statues
And fountains and trees

13 years later photographers
Capture the mood and the colour

Of freedom and life for me
Industrious bees and white shoes

A union of speakers and symphony
Christmas trees, markets and bows.

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I’ll buy poetry.

I won’t buy stocks or shares,
But I’ll hang around the library book sale
And wait, like a broker playing poker,
For the trolley that brings more books
People never borrow, or only ever read in hiding,
For the poems hidden between the books on framing art and how to knit the royal family.

You need to be on alert, a casual sweep, feel the unbroken spines, don’t look anyone in the eye, know your Dewey decimal system and know that poetry can often get lost in biography, war, and critical theory.

Rifle through the oversized books. You’ll feel the flush of the kill, soon know the taste of blood.

Pay.  Ignore the guilt of having never borrowed it, the shame of not keeping your promise, of lurking between the shelves.  Of pretending it didn’t matter at all.

Take receipt and away, stash and hoard.


Sound bite

Take it out spit it out spew it out
Of contract contact country context
Then slice and reel in realise realign
The subtext subjects sublet it for fortune good footing coughing citing.
Laughing lashing lacking laming
Laminate subjugate ham it up jam and jovial obfuscate infuriate state stakes
See how they laugh sneer jeer peer
Power mine lower move over inner ear.

Check chunk chick flick flunk feckless
Funk funky swanky sworn sweeper
Dandy hoary lander landseer Henry
Landed gentry chum cum cumulative
Language snatcher sadists anarchists
Wealth state mindless minded miner
Grovelling growling binder bummer
Bunker summer bumper swung sang
Soldier skater sister hater trek and troll
Doll skill skull soulful solely dolefully
Sinful merchant extrapolate meaning
Infuse empty words vehicles and test
Crash publicly originally officially officiant scarecrow yellow brick scar
Know kisses knives alleged stress and breathe.  Breathe. Appeal and breathe.

I have a good time for the other than the other use the other day: or, my phone writes poems like Gertrude Stein

Continue reading


Global liquidity. Liquid globe. Mechanical structure gone viral. Known. Unknowing. The rivulets where years ran tears span the creases you hang in your scaffold. The screech. The scream. The moan. Mine. Yours. You never had. Cranked up. Keep your dust feast on the moon in its wake. Your fast. Its wake your sleep you also its wake. You its pull and fast. Fast under its pall. Pour. Reign embalm. Its envy and calm fills your mouth. Your fingers. Almond nails. Entrails. What it doesn’t know. Doesn’t want. Know not moon draw blood from my eyes. Don’t ask. Don’t bend. It wants. It sees. Disappears.

Roast beef

Cooked and relaxed
Film a star. A world, aching with stars.
Our head sound, sound and weight.
Echo of flush, flushed, pulled and aching, an ache of blood. Pulled and
Aching let it let. Let it ache. Bloody flush of red, an ache, a spasm, a pain.
Pierced red. A menstrual ache, a shock
In the centre, a piece of ache, a centre piece, carved. Blood flow on the board.
Wooden board stained pink. Blame the lift and flow, the centre hold, the glut of grow and show. The tender on the cloth with love. The afterglow. The wood would savour, borrow, sow, the blood and the flow.  The wooden savour, the saviour, savoir, the red most tenderness, the melt and die.
The die and melt of red, the red melt, the lie, the red, the saviour and the savour, and the stain, the red and feel the ache and pain.

A segment

A chap, a sigh, a stutter, a cry.
A walk in a segment of semester.
A walk in a semester of snow, sequestered.
A form of address not known.
Footprints sown in satsuma snow.
Semester stolen sequestered snow.


“Where’s the moon?”
Gasping in the dark there,
Caught up in the branches
Through the kitchen window.

I can’t breathe.


“Can I come in?”
No, I’m growing wheat
And my herd and flock
Are grazing here.
You’ll have to rot.

Your blood and bones
Will fertilise my earth.

You can’t breathe here.


The moon is screaming.
It will keep us awake.
Suffocate us all.