Chubby Industry - Trumpet of the Poor

1.

The model cried silent tears on the catwalk. She was
growing a lettuce in her womb. The father was a menacing eagle. And the egg was not hers but her friends

Her friend was an actress with a turned up nose. And the model had agreed to this surrogacy under a willow tree, in the garden of the actress’ mother. A mother who collected old postcards and handwritten envelopes

She had (the mother) no feet, but wore long billowing skirts. And hovered, waving sheet music, fanning a lucky mole

It was a perfect moment, will you? I wouldn’t ask anyone else. And the model said yes, because deep down she was nice more than she wasn’t.

2.

I am very disappointed Rocky never continued in integers
I really want Rocky 87, & Rocky 1004. I want Rocky – post Rocky. Rocky dead, over to Rocky’s son. Outwards too – Rocky ‘the people I inspired’ - Rocky the ‘anti-matter’ musical. Rocky continuum. Rocky on & on. Rocky the never ending corridor. With a door per film, & behind those doors no walls. Just rocky-dressed workers, joke-punching each other. As they scurry between life forms and mutations.
And the planet to come in a million billion years time.
Go Rocky. Go.

3.

Bill’s wife returned from work to find Bill digging
(nearly complete) a large sized hole in the back garden
The hole would be treated, & water added, & fish inserted.

The hole was a hobby.
Bill was up to his waste in his hole when Rosemary
called to him. ‘Bill what are you doing? O no bill. No’.

Rosemary’s voice was one of concern
She also appreciated his determination.

Bill was left ‘ill’ after a car crash
Bill took multiples of tablets each day to survive

Bill ached that night
Rosemary looked up from her ‘TV Quick’
When Bill rubbed his knee.

4.

To breath laundrette you need to understand part-time
Part-time is quintessential reading minus throttle
If you read part-time, you will taste mauve heat

Cobwebs are the Andrew in Andrew Andrewson
Cobwebs from the deserted necks of rotting sponge are fine. Rotting sponge is sometimes called circumcision

The whale washes out the flu. The proof of life nods off
Deep privacy keeps the letters and numbers falling off machines. & a black man appears out of the poke hatch blue

5.

The crooner had a wayward son. The crooner saw him as
a consequence. A helicopter flew overhead. He had nothing intelligent to say

The son was made of indifference. The son pawned family artefacts of no real importance. A helicopter flew over his head. He just shrugged a shoulder.

The crooner put down the telephone with a bang. The crooner had been mismanaged and ill-represented. A helicopter flew overhead. He shook his fist and poured a Scotch

The son invited his friends to a house on the beach
The son was such a great party host - he was photographed for magazines. A helicopter flew overhead. He saw it but
was more interested in the sports car approaching

The crooner died of cancer in his early 70’s
The son took his portion of the estate and did very little.

6.

Rebecca is what constitutes the ‘smallest’ most petite mountain range. Rebecca is solid polka dot, sturdy wild flower. Her halo is a child’s wheel

Travelling-in each day I imagine with no mental
picture, she honks. Surbiton labels London that way by signpost, 12 miles. Rebecca honks

In bed she covers her geography in a slender thin shawl of
polythene. Mild decorative chillies lay down on her chest
Night ends episode(s)

7.

1. She was fake-tanned by appointment of the bride-to-be
On quick inspection I couldn’t find the join-lines
The money dropped out of the sky

2. She spoke continually about herself and tomorrow
She went to the bathroom to wash her feet free of soot
There is a kitty. There are spurs on the kitty.

3. Beneath the street in an empty lagoon there were 2
A music channel fucked in the corner of the building
It was all a stale-pie in the window could manage

8.

Her coat matched her bath eyes.
Her eyes matched her Mars
The two were independent but material
The joins you could not see but the feeling was there

Mars could be a thought-bubble
Her eyes could be coral interiors
The blue fish were the feeling of a nice new kitchen
The glass in the window the tank

Over this train journey several small hatches opened
Small postcard-sized portraits were fed in
Sharks scooped up the artwork and darted off
In the thought-bubble was a gentle game of badminton
The back & forwards of a metronome

9.

1. Jack Sprat was named so because he was mean-thin
The sun said take all your clothes off, so he did
A large spanner hung from his waist

2. Cranes helped other cranes find their feet
A thousand metres of concrete doesn’t say anything
Pillars didn’t have to be straight, just UP

3. Inside the rabid hog was the smaller rabid hog
Inside that smaller hog was a smaller rabid hog
& it was up to you. You chose when you
stopped asking what’s inside the rabid hog

10.

I’m on grey alert. The docks are cellular.
The docks are a moored web of tinkers.
The bulb on my head flashes grey.

It’s grey like a new dimpled shovel.
It’s grey like the underbelly of an off pork loin.
And it flashes - I get the twitch in my district.

I’m an untrained fiscal eye
And I look round for mild injustice
I folk the hazy laboured smelting-farm pockets

11.

The gym & the un-stretched spring holed up below ground.
A new dim lighting & a new stairwell were new in
technology. A sheer big mother fucker of leisure and
compass so was

The large warehouse gate folded. The small car took it at
the knees. The ‘super’ hurtled out of the nose into the
tailors light. The chase was on.

Now remember when your mum said,
Don’t play rally cars in fields of mud? Ruts lead to
jungles? The chase was still on but no one was chasing

Stop! A human tripod put his jelly on our windscreen
They demanded something very loud. Incredibly loud.
Bark like

(the roadblock is a question not in the exam. don’t worry)
The ‘super’ is last seen negotiating a bend belonging to
no Road

12.

Drinking port will never be holy
& the only good thing about Christmas,
It will never tell you its fucked a lot of men

13.

Mr. One Eyed O’Neil nests in the hole
Of an uprooted tree.
With a slim-line hypodermic needle injects
Graveyard into his forehead
Going in it feels close to blatant sodomy

He wipes his running nose
He adds a little rouge. A little teacher rouge

Building his canapé
Keeping bats off of the face
Circling that hole that leaks twisted flags of identity

14.

The perfume sachet is awake. It knocks
The magazine opens up, yawning.
How long has it been asleep?

A rock splits. A picture of a rock.
An old rock. The scene is set.

The sachet is scratched. Smell the smell oozing out.
Freon. Chlorofluorocarbons. a gas
A cloud clicking its fingers
Cool on the corner.
Uptown / downtown.
On a match, sucking.

Trapped, locked in the mirror for so much time
Soon. Watch closely. He chooses a direction to head off.
Gone. Wiping something. Strutting its paled stuff

15.

You’re allergic to wasps, & today
It’s the wasps inauguration, as president of the skies.
To explain why you can’t be there will mean swallowing
More of her holistic crap.

A man raises three inches in yogic flying demonstration
You panic and drop the baby. You are afraid of lifts.
It looks to you like a defective lift is said to plummet
If I don’t give a scientific reason she will put more
Nettles in my eyes.

‘Why have you got a spot of urine on your jeans?’
I can’t touch cotton wool, and Poppy’s clouds are
Made from cotton wool. Poppy leaves me the picture
Then runs off to the garden. My wife draws up a
Acomplete herbal overhaul of my being

16.

I move the mic stand to part of the stage that counts
calories. I move it to where the bell-cap mushroom grows.
I pick the audience up & help them out the window. I
drizzle them as spent placards over a mash of chairs.

The event organiser is scrambling to bag his coins. I
chase the event organiser with a pretty axe. I chase him
and his girlfriend out into the street. I pump them both
full of scurrilous Industry - the Chubby variety.

It’s just me in the half-a-coin room. The walls were not
decorated but hate the church. There’s an inch of beetle
skins upon the factory floor. I sit on front of the album
cover. Chewing-gum marks east of east and west of west.

17.

She is an arrow
Her diamonds say where she is heading
Her figure is new road. Her waist is spare

Her skin is obedient murder.
Her shade of gloss is nuclear vanilla
The tone is that of fingered money.

She crosses the bar treading-in slices of pastrami
The owner has designed the dance-floor to maximise his
sausage. The floor was imported all the way from Granada
by donkey. It was laid by a father & son team. Their family
illness is angina

A woman behind me says she is going back to have her left
nipple re-aligned. She says to look at them you would not
know they’re off. To look at them you would not know the
Royal Mint is recalling 2 defective copper coins.

18.

The phone rings & it’s the M4
It goes on. I translate from the Farsi

The Delinquent magazine has lifted an Artic freight
But why call me? I was the salt & pepper.

‘Fill her mouth with clinks and clanks of a Negro steamer’
There’s no justice. ‘Which issues are the wings?’

& before the phone turned to aged charcoal
My casserole had sent its CV into the thunderous night

19.

The kid never done no more harm than cake.
The kid was his own frilly deck, honk and shoulders.
The family were DIY witches with homes facing south

Braces of understanding parked up in the galley (below)
Freshly cut snorkels followed the scent of elastic curtain cord.
Hello to you all, how’s the 8 bit sphincter?
[Reply] well, well, computational.

Bibbing piping and tangerine ices were passed out
Rabbit hutches were broken down and reassembled
Lead Orgatrons and mouse helmets were noted for clarity & bathing

[that evening]
The film was about a childhood sweetheart and his vomiting ma. The vomiting ma was sick because she had mercury in her whistle. And every time she fell over nut-clack, she injected her mind with close death. They lived near a forest / hill.

20.

Work told him to take three days leave as a result of mass-mistakes
Initially he was kept in post on reduced duties, then a re-think
by personnel suggested he go. This was enforced by management (it appeared the safer option)

He is no longer here & no-one knows where he went. His parting words were ‘I guess it’s deserved’. But why now I thought? He’s always been useless prone. His desk is left tidy - his computer off

Management have decided they no longer want him there. The decision has been made and he knows it’s futile to challenge. They will offer him a way out, then find someone new. The post will be advertised with additional duties and a change in grade. The post will be advertised internally first.

21.

1. Move the face
To the clean surface
The glean and peril awaits.

2. A basic epileptic fit
is basic maverick conductor,
a basic ombudsmen.
& I took care of the paperwork

3. I am a basic groin
and I’ve got hairs growing

out my keyboard
out the top of my arms
out the knees

Where white spots emerge
And the skin there is so tough
to pop. And you can get
hurtful to yourself pressing and pressing

22.

It is a choice between the hardback L-plate or the peel-the-back-off sticky L-plate. The hard-back L-plate is ready-prepared with two holes. Place the string through these holes
and tie on to the bumper. Tie to genitals. Hang on door-knob.
The sticky L-plate is obvious. The manufacturer’s logo-in-print runs diagonally across the slither you discard in the bin.
Do not try to write an important phone number on this ‘backing’. Taking a biro to it just creates a waxy furrow.
If you want a waxy furrow to act as a digestional tract use a tea-spoon. Draw in the body with pencil, then run the marble through the mouth and see it lodged in the heart. [before pushing it to the bum]

23.

The gas mask isn’t to be worn as a cathedral
It is the state of a chip shop now!
Throwing it down, my brother the pleb
Storms off to the building site

Later in my life I entertain a messy dose of gout
It’s the only French farmer I’ve ever been
I’m the one who acts as a signpost
I envy the slick shoes on the nuclear power plant

Now as editor of a small ox I’m always fat
I don’t sleep because I’m also cupid
The insides of me are cannibal shopping centre
& the insignia on my tie is gull over trampoline (sigh)

24.

I was never walked as a child
My sister dressed me in pink slate
& I was told a lot of lies about hills

My little legs were kept in the box
My (auction) lot was confused with a spat-at-notebook
‘I really hate Hampstead, and its violins’.

Next month I am 126 and I’m afraid to die
I cling to my little doorbell & my doorbell clings to me
Private Eye magazine have sent me a can of tomato soup

25.

The telescope and the end-of-terrace joined arms.
They made a spit-pact quoting ivory & wool
They met in a little wood where no one could see them kiss

The night sky sprinkled upon them the softness of the mushroom. The ants, insects, rubber-bands and ‘livid owl’ Union put up witness. The brick wall around the cemetery said, ‘I’ve been waiting for this’.

A young boy entering puberty with a 70 - 30 chance was selected. A book of young boys was available in the shape of a steel drum. A book of young boys was whistled-in from where it snoozed - a wavering jetty on a still green pond home to rips & pistons.

We give you an eye into the life of Mr & Mrs precious souvenir. We give you an evening adjusting focus from slate-roof to crypt. We give you flavoured pyjamas: arguments, squabbles, embraces of neighbours
[Awoke a boy with an extra parting excited]

26.

You practised your lines. And I played coconuts
I was soft. I was soft. I was perched on
the under side of the table. And I knee’d. And I
stamped my feet. But I was soft. I was soft
You and the suction kid. With a hat and a bell that
tinkled. You practised your lines. & I was understated.
I was not amplified. I was a sausage. A soft sausage.
A sausage rolled in seeds

27.

She leaves her hairdryer on the floor.
The hairdryer cable is tucked into the drawer
The hairdryer & cable together form a trap.
It is all above ground, unlike the leaves over a hole one.

There is a towel too. Laying like a lady in a study of form
It is twisted in a loose S-shape. If you show your
Friend how you changed lanes - making the gap -
At high speed on the Motorway. That’s the shape.

The paperback is many a man dying for a piss
Flung against the bedside cabinet. Hiding the
Unfixable world from his activity. Bow-legged
And the worse for seeing affection in propellers

28.

The new born was due to be called ‘Sunny’
He was growing in the womb of his choice.
He was growing on minerals & troubled music
Cabbage gave the foetus wind
The mother & father agreed on ‘Sunny’, with a
Shake which began as a ‘helping hand’ across a brook
of wet sludge.

The first thing on his mind was a metallic tasting cider
Everything continued fine as the belly increased in girth
The cat caught a magpie and the rhubarb flourished.
The twins rocked on their settee next door [our wall].
Father visited their father after the 8 minute buffer zone.
As mother addressed her temperature
Father decorated his fantasy
Tilling his loving arms from the edge inwards
Painting a colourful poking tongue and lively ‘coo’
Working towards the cot at the centre
Where there was expectation and worry and change

29.

He cooked her fish with a rake
Planets circled the pan
Small planets the size of a young Wembley
There was an odd one the size of a moonlit beach
He told the ‘beach’ to try Saturday in Kent

She read a magazine
The fire beneath the pan was burning ghats
Bodies melted in the fierce heat of flames
There were expressions not found on stamps
There were smiles from lunatics who loved in the act

The table was cleared with spray
The kings & queens were told to go home
The wolfhounds in bibs were given an injection
The juggling court jester needed a tender touch
The drapes pulled from the wall during his tantrum

30.

Her brain baked cookies. Submarines beckoned her home.
She flew in an arsenal. Her passport was wrapped in reeds.
She tore towards mothers pots. She understood the basics.

The size of her bag was reasonable.
Her fathers concerns were cupped. There was a Bigfoot.
There was an explanation. There was a local paper. There
wasn’t just one dance card

At the suds a car was waiting. The car was filled with
blackboards. The parental engines were aerosols. The
scenery moved like one little fan

They ate a meal of putty. They reviewed the chest
They took it in turns to sewer. They slept with foals.

31.

Sometimes the moustache was a fish-tank
Sometimes it felt neat and tidy in Heidi’s plats
It felt so good it rested on the railing overlooking
Margate beach.

On the front of cosmopolitan magazine is a young lady
in wool. The cover story is dedicated to thick wool &
its benefits. I draw a moustache on her face. I put her in
the Caribbean. She’s very uncomfortable.

Margate beach versus the Caribbean is billed as a must
see. Both have fish, but one fish is made of jumble-sales
and the other fish is made from reggae. The bookmakers
just can’t decide. The reptiles are wishing on each other’s.

32.

I’ve been watching Sex in the City
I’ve been watching it for hours now
When Sex in the City goes home
I prod the armchair
Demanding it farts in front of me

33.

Kud’oine
where the gulls wont stop
stealin flags and poppin balloons.

34.

The spy plane dropped out of the sky.
The spy plane lost its elastic on its pants
It took its hand off the waistband to help industry
It went straight down and didn’t drift.

In the ground was a spy-plane hole
There was no way it could be explained as a safe
If there are only 2 spy planes in the hemisphere today
The teeth marks in the cheese are yours

The servicemen got out the folded-away roulette wheel
They lit big cigars and put on their green visors
One dressed as a woman and did a dance with a cigarette
holder. She was sexy up to a point then she wasn’t. This
type of thing is strictly forbidden but what could they do.

35.

I’m a red-faced guru on her social calendar
I’m not an octopus starter or a Devon eclipse
I’m a very old Lord that requires airing

Monday holds no more than the puddle
Tuesday is ok, but so you know - I’m dead
Wednesday is fine. Wednesday is good
Wednesday is often testes

Two three cycles previous I was Count Vehement
Gunning down Saturday nights, putting pork onto
Barbeques. I wore Chinos. I tipped my hat. I just arrived

36.

Ducks were sent for by fascism
They interviewed anyone. They were losing, see.
The duck stood on table is hilarious.
It don’t know fuck all.
She quite hopes fascism will return.
They’ll eventually get round to desperate housewives. And
she’ll then be hauled in. ‘tell us what you know sweetheart’
It is a smooth talking fascism.
‘This is so exciting’, she clenches her mug.
‘I’ve never been on a game-show before’
‘Are you saying we’re Keith Chegwin lady?’
It was better with ducks.
‘Just tell us, are you a member of the Secret Susan
Society?’ She is, but she doesn’t know it.
So she vehemently denies any knowledge.

37.

A darkened cinema
is where to escape
from the fairy and the wishbone.
It’s a day of fairy and wishbone.
It’s a race
Between
pinkety-plink
and snappity-snap

Escape to the cinema.
Screw hard on a wet rag.

Cinema’s where I go
(they) give you wet rags for tickets.
Screwing wet rags makes
all things very last dot on the closing TV of worry

38.

In the front room AL explained – excited – stoned
her back pain and discomfort had eased massively
‘I went from a DD cup to a H’.
She had been wearing the wrong bra

‘They measure you on a machine’
‘The shop next door then provides your new bra’
‘I’d got it all wrong!’

In the kitchen the husband was drying just washed
coffee mugs. A friend wandered in to get his account of
this change

‘So they’re now a H?’
‘I know!’ & he circled inside the coffee cup
‘Here’, they shook hands filled with celebration.

Irony was there but I’m afraid just couldn’t compete

39.

Reading Freud gives me orgy dreams
Reading too much Freud has me smearing in dung

Vixens from Deep-aunties stable dance to hyenas
My cheap bottle of Muscadet is taken from my hand

It’s a suicidal leap from the mezzanine floor
The African fertility doll holds my cigarette

Everyone whips out their two sets of genitals
I can find no-one who knows how West Ham did today

I wake with a stiff neck
I find a dead wasp in the toilet

40.

1. The sea was exactly the same shade as the sky
I punched you in the face
The ‘o’s have little roofs on them here

2. Fish is caught very fresh and served with the head
Dementia is rife in the mountain villages
Reasonably priced batteries

41.

Ticks splattered against the giant landowner’s monocle.
The monocle was perch to a crow. Salty piglets dropped
from his grinding palms. He ground his palms and sheds
collapsed. Sodomy and ugly Blue Bells flourished. The
Blue Bells were epileptic in movement. They fizzed. My
chemistry teacher says they effervesced. They had
permanent attacks and smelt of silt. If they were a
mechanical toilet-freshener people would rather go in the
road. The giant landowner drew finish-lines everywhere.
He drew finish lines across arranged marriages. He drew
them across wagon-trails. He drew them across other
farmer’s profit margins. His horizons were like looking at
a dropped box of cocktail sticks. His network of castrating
influence was very complex. He thought about getting a
logging device, similar to a cricket scorecard. But he put a
finish line through that too.

42.

I have more in touch with keeping-fort-here
I have no qualms with keeping-fort-here
Keeping-fort-here is duck
Duck is out though

On viewing entrance to the public house I
Spot Duck’s contractor
Duck’s contractor is stout and of the opinion I’m whistle
Whistle is Mary, some Joe (a tinge)

The lost mascots ear was found in little Didsbury
Learning slang is little Didsbury, but it’s more
More, as in no one says more yoga please

43.

He bought her
a whale
a carrot. A ladder
and a fire.
But he got it wrong. He missed
the point.
She did not live in drawings because she was poor.
But because there was no accidents. Or lost bits.
And she looked at him
with an arrow pointing to the smiley sun
The ever bankable sun

44.

1. Her female face is a fed ram
I’m looking at the weight
The stump-end of a telegraph pole

2. Where did she steal this chapel of rest?
The black curtain burns feebly
In accordance with middle-opera

3. My parachute saved us
It was very strong initiative
My Superman arm around her waist

4. (Just for a second
chimpanzee thumbs miscued
Her purse fell open)

45.

A very rare (type of) parakeet was discovered by police
Today, abandoned in an abandoned garage
Close to Halifax (abandoned) ice rink (closed).

The police say cheese and pickle, ham and mustard

Marlon Brando this bird of paradise wasn’t
Though his green trilby wouldn’t budge
Since it was his head.

(police say) No one gets alive

Do call us if you know absolutely anything about granite
Or have seen recently an upright tissue box
Being used for private calls

Goodnight. Sorry, come back.

46.

Some work for us some do not – physically.
Swift & experienced play concludes a win. Unattainable
positional extremes negate simple intercourse: ruin samba

Banished from the eatery, he’d got caught with another
woman! The washer boy. [now] Cleaned tunnels dripping
in green wet moustache. Insect forestry, mostly slugs

This gallery in Munich was obvious. Ham fell out the end
of the baguette. Eavesdroppers toured large feral canvases
I commented on a pile of mock quasi-spastic Industry

47.

The seat goes back. The plane takes off. The load is fired along mapped trajectory. You arrive to new heat. You
arrive to new trees. You arrive to new insects.

The bus pulls out. The children wave. The bus is king of the freeway. You begin to worry. You begin to panic. You’re not sure why. The bomb explodes. The passengers

die. The story is reported across the world. You travel in fluid. You arrive with little hair. You cry and poo. The first 12 years are delightful. The next 20 are mixed. The

following 40 are slow. You arrive with someone else. You do better than them. You die again. The next two times are a little better than average. The next 6 are mediocre. 40 are

spent in space. 560 without human form. 921 without water. 4 million as a equal. 459 billion androgynous. 1245 million times a means to an end.

48.

Randolg Uppers was a fine carpenter
Him & Hilda had blue-prints for a bungalow
The council agreed and work began

Randolg and his friend Hermit dug the foundations
Hilda visited her mother for the weekend
The earth was taken away by O’Brien

Concrete was barrowed in from the front
The ground was filled and levelled
There were splatters of concrete on each mans shins

Hilda returned to see the concrete dry
Randolg said she could stand on it – go on
Hilda treated it like ice on a pond

49.

[] Here’s some Finsbury park moss
It is in the news. It is a hot-bed for political radicalism
Men with beards sit surrounding its square softness
They have turned the volume down on the traffic
They need complete quiet to hear the moss’ sermons
Some have travelled all the way from Birmingham
Birmingham did have a lot of moss before the famine
Then the people cut it up and made it into bread
Each week one of the elect council has to take the moss
home for regeneration and safe-keeping. There is a rota
which was devised by Farouq Mailk. Farouq Mailk has
done a lovely job. He has taken every ones photo and
stuck all the faces onto a magnetic wall-chart. The wall-
chart was used as a game of monopoly by some heathen
scum. They bought & sold Allah’s mouthpieces. They
drew spectacles for sweat-shops on properties with beards.

50.

She lies like medicine
She is as polished as the Vatican
She is not only asleep but ironing computers

She breathes in labels
She twitches because it’s measles

She is juice. She is left open drawer
She moves in tunnels on exciting pink scooters

There is a pavilion. There is a paddle boat
There is an eclipse. There is fur

51.

It perplexed me. I threw small-vent shaped petals
She never trimmed the wallpaper covering her hymn book
This is not gay slang.

There were two or three inches of over-hang at each end.
It was a wallet with very large notes poking out. These
notes were the colour of her bathroom. Or her hall or her
kitchen where there wasn’t tiles

It was the colour of a tall woman with neck bolts
With back problems, who could only pick from the top
row of patterns. It was candid pink slurry. The look of
hepatitis in the neck-brace of the owl.

52.

It never got fixed, the blip of Macedonia
I’m outnumbered by ranks ascending
Trilby hats are captured ball-balls. Sailors have aftershave

Our drive: to conquer the meridian.
We [instead] savoured the heat and write letters back
Illusion is party-quantity. Civilians are passively shot

I don’t worry over admin engines.
Some are flustered by the powers of long guns
They go mad: get battered to smithereens.
They are thirsty hungry for extra smithereens

53.

A white possum bends over attending to some migraine
The ass of the white possum is an unsold doughnut
When the doughnut is cut in two
One half is sport, the other half is terror.

The terror side has no blueberries.
It is just plain fast motorcycle rides blindfolded and naked.

The big hunter takes aim with a chilli-dipped anticipation
Not that he will examine this possum before he eats it.
He will just rub it into the carpet of the world.
He will squish it into the cigar pit of the jungle

His finger twitches. His nose sniffs. His toes clench the
carpet of his feet. His passport is checked, double checked.

BANG. the bullet travels via the florists
BANG. the bullet is excused traffic signs & highway code
BANG. the possum is stabbed

54.

When his wife got severe arthritis
He bought himself part locomotive
She watched from the bedroom window in pain.
David Bowie was involved.

David Bowie was 60 when she went, ‘my knuckles tingle’
She felt a junior karate championship going on in there
There must have been an awful fallout between dads &
judges, as the doors to the gym were kicked off and that’s
when she went to hospital.

Middlesex is a painful place. It is the soul of David
Bowie’s best friend. The car-park you may have seen
in drawings of the dice. Step on a lemon and see what
I say. See it flop on the olds. Go on

55.

Jet black long-too fine serene with-it
Always up-to the motorcycle but never on it
Practical pectorals you

Risk taker traveller of tropics bugs & lotion
Them blondes that sandwiched your box
Gentlemen you, you never did

Guitar lightening bolt-shape purple wizard on-it
Drunken protagonist storming dorms
Courteous railway announcer him

56.

The emergency call-out crew arrived on a plate of suet
pudding. They arrived on Sunday just after fried breakfasts
They pulled up to the kerb and hit it

The spiral bound A-Z skipped away to play on the patch
The polystyrene coffee cup refused to budge
The yappy dog sniffed the grill to tell the time

The bollards were orange and cordoned off AP19
AP19 was the name & date of birth of the ruin
Supposed gas was the dress-code

The generator started up to the theme tune from the
‘Wonder Years’ before going steady. The jackhammer was
dragged by its donkey ears to drink. The butler pressed
PLAY and the cacophony shat its library in thumps

57.

Clacker’ing rattle bird chirps completely fast
Motorway vocal speeds up-and-down two of three notes
The bird caller’s booklet says umbilical cord chastised
/ cut/ e.g. broken

That poor winged herpes ridden (it says) meat whistle
All the way a parcel from North Africa flapping
O the hotels there keep out the Arabs
(I am cross referencing booklets)

Gin & tonic is the order of the day. Football is popular
A dam was built in 1906 from counterfeit labour (deceased)
The national dialling code is calling me MR my fist
Name Ha, pause for bacon

58.

I ejaculated a French policeman.
His knees were a gravel fight.
His English was in dollops, drips, and horns

Did I know my pipe was cutely dimpled?
Did I know all of my darkened bends were lit with throbbing tiny thumbs?
No I didn’t, I said.

Turning an invisible liquorish cathedral about its mince
Caressing my thighs like hot baked turf.
Several postman minutes passed
In which I did nothing, other than pose for softened heaps

‘I understand the young people of today.’
‘I was once young too.’

There were frying pans and rolling-pins on the streets of Paris. There was unrest in the economic teapot
There were epaulettes on the shoulders. There was a lot of running from one side of the stage to the other

59.

The lady in waiting is a county next to a famous county
The lady in waiting coordinates both mono & stereo
Dressed like a neat toilet, she smiles mantelpieces

Her fetching-sticks are wands handed down by Jacks
Her patience is envied by whaling slimmers
The words ‘dove’ & ‘dump’ are far apart

Dignitaries came & went
Civil war gambled on the weather in April that year
Skin fell and God played the glockenspiel

60.

1. They held me up-side down.
They shook me.
Out came a toaster, a radio.
Out came most of the booming economy.
I could see eyes. Many eyes.
In the undergrowth. Scavenger eyes.
Peering out at us.

2. They strapped me to a spinning wheel.
Around and around I went
Out spun/flung, a panther. A gazelle.
A jackal. And a rabbit. A rare rabbit.
Them eyes. Were there. Then were gone.
The endangered species scared them off.
For now

3. They threw me down.
Threw me down on my back.
Took it in turns to jump up
and down on my guts,
squeezing out, the phantom, a Red genie.
A unicorn, inclusive of sparkles.
I could see them. those greedy eyes.
Those nosey eyes. Those eyes of lust.

61.

Bouncers in heavens
Paparazzi wheels fume
Orderlies carry bitchy whispers
Salad Sandpit eruption imminent

62.

Twenty metres of unadulterated Tapas Zone
Gold banner means sun cheese Riley
The Promotional Offer is sweet. Enjoyments are un-free

In this conical sun soaked dairy grill
In this barn of hip-cuts dry-cuts just nuts just corks
popping. Out of the family salad shared platter
It’s hot its greasy its bubbling and splattering

Life is sold and bought and who recalls the palm tree
Wood is waxed and straight and there are twenty in an 8
man raft. Queues at the bar are astronauts on the moon,
chives decorate.

A fan revolves ‘organ unattached’, minding the necks of
freelance boppers. Guitars spurt in the moonlight wok
A small toilet and a brass bell on the barman turn in

63.

Beneath a Union Jack you proportioned. You entwined
There was Glasgow united, filling tower-blocks
The tabs on the coffee table were behind glass

I crept into the dumb-waiter, only in size
Panting, pointing replacing divots. It’s a sneak.
I didn’t knock. I was Lenny Bruce

I wanted a cigarette more than I needed gums.
You two clit-clattering away under our
Queen’s screen-saver. The baking fags in shadow

64.

I apologise for mass bad poetics, full stop, comma, and line break. I apologise nationwide, worldwide. I take down our flag. I apologise to the family - mother verse, father verse & baby verse, like you, we leave our forgotten elders in libraries to rot. I apologise for the society, the association, the laureate & the professor, our rebel voice too was last heard when? Tell me. LOUDLY, go. I apologise to the prime minister & presidents, who search threw newspapers for poesy about them, but find nothing. Ho hum, lets bomb. I apologise to the individual, you go anon, we go anon, you go holy-handed, we go holy-handed, and we point our finger at you, and you point your finger at us, & no one says a thing. I apologise for the promoters, I could not flood your event, drench your egoism, weigh you down with money, and bring about a revelation. I will return next week and apologise more. I apologise for not being there to assist the young, new & naïve, but you are lazy. I apologise for not bringing together, an army of the bad, mad, the great the clever & the damn right talent-less. I forgot. I apologise to the general paying public; we just don’t have it yet. Try later.

65.

I don’t think they should leave fish uncovered
I throw the fish into a taxi
I send him to the address across his face

66.

He bought half-price champagne
There is an ink drawing of a vineyard on the label
It is slopping down to meet the stream
By that stream he added a cube of cheese
He looked at the label, he looked at the cheeses at the
counter. He said that one; got a pen & inked it in.

He drew in a lock, a stock-room, and a barrel for the movie
That was only 3.99. And those items fitted well with
the cube of cheese, the stream that run away from the
grapes & the vineyard with a stalk carrying a baby in a
sling.

The stalk had to be larger than the cheese but smaller than
the barrel. It also had to be high enough off the ground
Otherwise the stick with a circle head wouldn’t convince
the reader it was a healthy human.

67.

The woman opposite cooks up nappies
They belong to Dalmatians
The smell is far away from magnets

There is a florescent piping around her swimsuit
The hair on her head is bad copper
Her lover is a Greek

My jazz doesn’t go above four
Her church is paralysed
Weather is headaches

68.

Fat plumber had more elastic than most
His sidekick was his own lap
Tomorrow they piss

A knock on door - you would have bet goat
Been upstairs these two Chaplins - inspecting panties
Giggling, on cheap crisps and pop

The workman’s elbow went down
I resigned from my life
Was that a dimple? No it was grit

He could do nothing more for his mother
He had fixed her system. The simple glass of H2O
That be a ditto then, and he ditto’d us

Warnings be goodbyes and safeguards nods
The lurch didn’t get it right
The invoice bought us all snots

69.

1. There is aftershave knocking on the census door.
There is bottled a set of dry lips.
They roll like bolts down the neck.
It’s that, or, torn boxing gloves and eaten ‘at’ photographs

2. The town tonight is pristine thumb marks
The divorcee takes on the traffic, riding in pram wheels
The music pauses at the creases and lets out clotted porridge

3. The people sayers have batteries in them
Instead of outside them, & the wires on show
They have federal permission on show also
It defaces spies like mention of Clarridges in anecdotes

70.

The pub was a matador Tardis
It was a lazy empty Sunday Labrador inside
It was an auditorium hosting auditoriums auditorium 2006
The jury were out of town but left the door on the latch

A young lady approached us with a neckline that looked
like my penis after a hot bath. The neck on her sweater was
the twisted mat on entrance to the beer university. She
tended to the bar with plump cordless motivations. She was
unaware; she was writing a novel for the treacle dribblers

There at one time past been a civil war right here on
this spot. It is a war between wood and glass
All those that died in that struggle were remembered
by a glass window or a wooden wood. It was roughly equal
in defeat accept for the stairs. The stairs are the pin to the
badge that’s this brewery flagship

71.

The buffoon is tripping on the promenade
This article is intoxicated. His five pound note
Usually delivers

A car misses him by a custard
A clump from a bouncer took off his makeup

The B&B never does nought but sulk
So he raps on the dither, asking if pinball is coming out

The police arrive. They are all Ringo Starr
There is a scuffle. There is a pull down menu

Your average tiddlywinks ensue

72.

The suitcase had been brutally insulted for decades
The outer skin had hardened and resembled a bomb
It was an oblong bomb with a shopping list inside
The shopping list listed his desires and weaknesses

The bomb had been found in the attic of a terraced house
The newly-wed couple said to the brother you can take
this old junk and put it in your bar.
The bomb, the guillotine (the chair) & the tank (the settee)
were driven to London in a retired greying postal van

The furniture was spread around like 3 sausages for 9
scouts. This bar was a community centre for left-behinds
and un-wanted’s. They were coaxed to smile and sit up
straight and think of the numerous evacuees that went to
Wales. All the customers thought this anti-junk were
remarkable. The bomb got-off with the opening night
(the plug hole)

73.

1. You reverse, you come forward
The change of mind with opening pawns
Excited at the chocolate box. I could be lying on my bed

2. I call you Capriati now. You’re a figurine
I don’t specify any emotion
These are wooden vertical panels
You knock at the bottom to see how high they reach

3. How long has it been? What turned the mobile?
Rainy man went into hut, sunny man came out
I collected you from a station

74.

Her office was what happens to a phone box if it
studies hard and passes all its exams
The parents of this badge were coasters
I stood in my pants holding my Salinger
Tweetering out my flesh advert

Doctor Hills works to stick up your bank
Her instruments are cold because they are silent
She puts her guns in a respected brown bag and
blows synagogues into tendons & blood violins

Her getaway vehicle is the symmetry of limbs
& as you drive to Rio in Surrey a lad called
Carmichael steps out pulling it all into a size 10
If you ever want to know what fiction does
for sore tendons, take a gander up the ramp
into the orthotic insole: see the briny flag waving

75.

The flip-book wasn’t totally art 100%
& it was too delicate for all ‘toy’
To enjoy Victorian fun you had to be 37 with a moustache

In 1856 only seven women publicly twittered.
Twittering is laughing whilst holding a handicraft of
some sort

In this flip-pad, to illustrate this, you can see needle-craft
The dark shadow running to the hearth is counting,
‘twittering is ok on Sundays after a good slap of industry’
‘there is a time a place, and you may do so, begin’.

And the two ladies twitter. And the shadow grows larger
and larger. And the needle-point fills in for pauses in tweets
And pulses are out of epoch sink

76.

Daddy was a cruel cunt.
Did he bleed bleed? He did, when hit with a shovel.
It was after ten. City dark. In some immigrant fuck-hole near
to Kilburn. Daddy had been drinking. He walked home alone. Daddy’s wife Rosalind sat at the kitchen table. Her snatch stunk. Daddy went down. Hit the pavement.
Daddy doesn’t die.

Busy. It was shoulder to shoulder
The carpet stank of piss. The women were ugly.
He got served. He got served again. Right after.
He found the girl with the biggest breasts.
He whispered in her ear. She thought him forward.
He whispered in her ear again.
They left.

In the little shit hovel he was renting he gave her some cocaine. He then bummed her.
He pulled up his trousers. He peeked out the window.
She lit a cigarette. He sat in his chair. She complained about a torn bra. He told her to shut it.
He didn’t have pets.

77.

Palestine just wants to be single
It wants to screw around, no hassles
It has its eye on Libya, the shopkeeper’s daughter

78.

‘why can’t the weight go onto my breasts?’
Her whine is a bendy twig that doesn’t snap.

79.

The crowd were paraphernalia
They kept themselves to themselves
Themselves all hinting at the cigar case
In the photo next to the passports

They laughed an old mans rainbow.
It was the shape of Bobby Moore’s chip
The fried chip he showed to Gordon Banks
Look at this, ‘its over-cooked’

Up went the old mans rainbow then down
Plummeted into a portly bucket. n
Which I tucked away so no one got hurt

80.

They met where the water was just shrimp
He glanced at his bald spot
He noted his

There was a clef palette in the air
A battle of the colognes
There was a rat

Aldershot meanwhile lost to Bolton
Lincoln got a late winner
& Preston drew away at Leeds

Was the rat a rat? That was the beef
The bald spot got fingered
No paper was involved

81.

She lunched on palm tree & purpose
She wore the uniform of a high-street retailer
There were ‘help me at sea’ movements to her jib

I am looking deeper than her may-day makeup
I am looking beyond the curtain mozzarella
I am peeping further into the postcard’d rescue memo

The clavicle has been used to out-base horse guards
The research for the stamp of approval is throbbing.
The sister company moors in the cultural significance of hips

82.

We will have to wipe the universe’s tears
We will have to hold its sobbing mass
We will have to bring its skies into our chest.
We will have to walk it the long way home.
We will have to console the planet,
Winking over its shoulders to our mates.

83.

Have-locks open
Permanent sleep buildings available
There were gutter-balls beneath her nails

Hair is a Marshall
Marijuana haves him sit up

I fixate on its fine capitals
He can’t reach the lemon grove

William Burroughs does his tie
She adjusts in the incubator
I won’t speak to me

84.

The bar used orange as we may leave notebooks on buses
The café vibe was a hunchback forcing its way into the till
The pillars were a nuiscence as the excitement here was a
cable-car ride.

Probably tonight I would go to bed thinking of a soft boiled
egg in the morning. Probably I might get to see the
mountain bikes parked in her hallway. Probably I should
refrain from memorising capitals & concentrate on the bill.

Waitress service only appeals to me if I'm sat at the only
table in the place. The waitress got to us using the grid on
the back of a tortoise shell. The waitress looked up at the
stringy chandelier as I run my finger down the larrup of
beers

85.

The nightingale squawks because it is clammy
The note is diluted by an over-formed cheek muscle
The woe of the bird is bound in a leather envelope

The mountain like the Christmas tree
Doesn’t need to sit for a portrait.

For the most beautiful black-tooth a biro does best
Did it matter what colour his prosthetic arm was or whether
the thumb was straight?

The toilet wall artist had used an X for the anus
The caption didn’t need to spell out the time in addition
The stockbroker still laughed even though he had made
6 million of them that afternoon

86.

His singing keeps him on smaller stages
Stepping down of off one small stage (one night) he guffawed. He guffawed and thumbed his pickle
Against the bar lent Chubby Industry.
Chubby Industry wore a blazer. His blazer was Blackpool.
& at his side was an x-unicorn

The x-unicorn stepped up and said excuse me pal
The singer that sung on small stages said but I only
I only, I thought
The x-unicorn looked to Chubby Industry. The singer that sung on small stages looked to Chubby Industry
Chubby industry said ok, it’s ok. The x-unicorn backed off

The singer that sung on small stages asked Chubby Industry If he could get him on slightly bigger stages
They didn’t have to be taller just slightly bigger stages
Chubby Industry sucked on his steam boat – not rushing
Chubby Industry sucked some more
Chubby said raincoats
The x-unicorn stepped in and ushered the singer away

87.

I first tried on a condom in a WW2 bunker
Written on the wall was ‘HOLLYWOOD’
The ‘Y’ was a crucifix

16 years later I walked into LIDL’s under a black cloud
I had gone full circle. I had achieved nothing
It was lonely with one A level

88.

The security guard saw his wife’s ovaries pasted to the job
The alarm went off in room 129 and he made everyone
write down their names in big letters. He carried the comp-
liment slip to the head of security who threw it in the bin

Back at base he collected a new jumper sent down by Head
Office. The crest over the tit was a menacing eagle
carrying his wife’s ovaries. He had ordered a Large, they
had sent migraine

He opened his flask and poured coffee into a mug
On the mug was a picture of a matador waxing a Mercedes
If anyone tried to assassinate either of these he would shine
A torch in their larder & break their NI number in two

89.

tarzan brown mackeral gold
matchbox shadow besides nose
face colour of wet sandal

eyes two villas
bedded lioness his belly
counting money in the navada air

pool table complexion
durex bubbles for spots
runaway pneumatic drill

mother quacks
he eats the bowler
he chomps on her barking moth cartel

90.

Straight off the lolly stick
Mowed down by the encyclopaedia
A haircut with a straw in it
She and her coloured harpsichord diarrhoea

Ascertains I only enforced the margins
Assumptions I greened on the green
Fountains were not inside out leaking tents
Confident I had not twizzle or twozzle for anyone

In between her paring her short stories
I snuck into her canteen of chords
On the desk of ashtray and lighter was a textbook thing
I looked at the OXO tower. I bet a fiver it wasn’t

91.

Under the map the spare keys were kept
The map was a picture of a drain-gate
On top of the drain-gate were a bowl of flowers
The bowl was terracotta plastic and still had the sticker
of purchase on the side.

On the washing line hung his grey school trousers
One half of the right leg was damp
That part of the leg had been given a good
going over. They hung there for their crime.
They were all that were there bar pegs.

Inside the house was a discussion about the
remote-control. It was the centenary of the remote-control
‘We always keep it here’, and showed him the ledge.
‘The zapper, you mean?’ His family called it the zapper
There was a clunk of static as the TV fired into shot

92.

He runs his laundrette with scrotum
Floors walls doors circles - basic clarity
‘Tis him who minds blocks

His English is a tooth then not a tooth a tooth etc. comb
Signs are accurate words but no small joining words
Possibilities are added in. Shortcuts suggested only after

The fellow is trapezium
A light blue shirt leaves his waist - the sawn-off shotgun
I last saw such angles on a baby bouncer
The elastic rope in each corner of the door frame

A pregnant mother is guarded against loss
A gold tooth respects his instruction
He is not unhinged by poor equations or bandages
Those without small square space can sit in his small-
square-space & maw

93.

There is a bus in my pornography
Parked in front of my action.
An old lady on the top-deck relaying human cargo

There are no red stop signs. Or traffic in front.
There are no vehicles behind. She bangs
On the glass to alert me in significance

Just as I get up to tip the TV on its side
The bus tootles off. She points at my chest ‘quick!’
I look at my chest and see Fleetwood Mac.

94.

The picture of the basset hound was done in pencil
The picture hung above the gas fired imitation fire
The dog itself wandered through its snout
It furrowed in the spaghetti humans don’t see
It dug because of the program in its being

‘he was a grown man, we were grown men’
‘he cried. he swore it was that way, and we knew it wasn’t’
‘we were on top of this mountain. the snow was horrific’
‘& it turned out we were right. 15 feet in that direction
was a massive drop’, ‘ we would have died’

The perk of working there was a Ford Orion Sapphire 1.8X
It had a sunroof, a radio cassette and electric windows
The electric windows went up & down. The boot sprung
open by the touch of a button. The colour was metallic blue

95.

Side B was covered in thicket & thistle
There was a punctured deflated football grown
into its cackle

Dirty cows grazed on rugby field leftovers
Cars sped by escaping breakdown or arrest.
The scene was course and in need of watery saliva

Side A was the lush savannah bedded on yoghurt
Insects made mucus hoping between the strings in
this harpsichord

The chorus of life sung to the shuffle of playing cards
The sun spun like a newly fixed punctured racing wheel

96.

The father became a martyr for a minor cause
Who wants to make such Olympic decisions?
Now he chuckles eating a prune

Would he do it again? He doesn’t know
Does he still believe? Of course (kind of)
Would he like to try some fine whisky? Yes he would

He shows me photographs of nude women
He shows me an atomic bomb
There is a painting of a Mexican woman drinking juice

When mother & daughter return he is drunk
He is told to put away his box of photos and posters
He winks at me and drives off still sat there

That night in bed I am woke up by a mosquito
The mosquito has kidnapped another mosquito
Today there has been a lot of ear hitting

97.

Her youth was open plan
Her room had not been lived in
She was no particular. She was all eyes

He sat up straight. He coughed into the side
His eyebrows rose with her voice

Pick a colour Pick a rumour Be a hundred words

98.

Gnome and fishing rod
Hearing somewhere in the distance
A hairdressers closing

99.

His asthma punched the torchlight
The asthma was young and annoyed at its tormentor
The asthma could not reach to switch out the bulb
The ire turned into a somersault & landed on its back

The edge to the cliff loomed to our left
All of us debated whether to take its silver slide
Our head wanted pineapple-crush but our belly didn’t
want to go to the carnival. The gap between them can be
measured in hymens

‘Don’t volunteer for anything’, that was the call.
Volunteers were bungalows and stepped forward in
pea-shingle. Volunteers were promised a wealth that
looked like a varnished post. Some volunteers paraded the
tunic that flapped in the dark un-mouthed breeze. Some
were just hedge.

100.

Alice caught a form of lice in the head
On her hairs were minute death metal acts
On her scalp were empty beer bottles & mercury
As she walked to school the titanic went down

Under the microscope I could make out a tattoo
At 15X magnification I could see the door policy
At 30X magnification I could find a birthday card in
a ladies hand-bag. At 100X magnification I could see a
crumb of cracker lodged in the microphone bulb

The lead singer had eaten the savoury circle to dislodge.
The idea of an antiseptic bath. He had been scratched on.
The back by a crazy fan. The gland to the left of the pelvis was up

101.

The hospice would inwardly implode
without the bicycle, the doorway
& the George. The equilibrium minus
any of this ‘article’ would pop its cork.
I cannot not describe an inward popping cork
All I cay say is: turn a swimming-pool inside out
with one eye closed.

The George of this era is Simon. Simon is just too
nice for most people. He therefore went mad.
He mops out the doorway. He mops it with a trunk.
Whose is the bicycle chained to the odour-eater?

Simon has a calculation going on at present. Since
he has never lived by the sea his jet-skiers are circling
his barrel of vim. Throwing him small helps at the strike
of 12. The groove at the top of the dial.

102.

The owner of the shop called back a woman to his front
He used the signal of goodbye
Her she turned and waved and kept walking

He tended to his pots then called her again
Again using the universal wave of goodbye
It was her who used her initiative and returned

This I want you to have and he handed it to her
He reached down to tender to his plants
He waved her away as she said goodbye

103.

Horace is a paisley mayor
He was given the genetics of a hunk. A beefcake with a
pectoral masterpiece. He has flashed and stopped catholic
mass. He had only bought 1 drink since 1989.

A doctor called Kilburn Eddie. So called because of his
breathing on the poor, rushed with his bag to number 3
He had heard a 8 headed carbuncle resurface
It was Kilburn Eddie versus the Kilburn Carbuncle [yes]

Number 3 was built from smoky leftovers
There was a biscuit patio but this belonged to number 5

Horace the hunk was very depressed at the Kilburn’s probe
‘I'm telling you Horace, you have a pussy tractor on its
way between your breasts’, ‘all we can do is wait’.
Kilburn Eddie took some Calor gas from his bag and
brewed tea.

104.

We opened the box in Hampstead
If there were anyone on our tail we lost them
We secured a harmonica
We did a roll.

The heath was flooded
The sleeve was full of hexagonal badges
The ice cream van skirted the edge
Unable to get aboard

You sat on my face
I heard the bells of St Clements
The sun ate into your tartan skirt
The sun liked it

105.

A part of her hair was un-cut
It was cut to be realised as undone
There was a lost mammal hanging from her head

Sunglasses kept her hair behind her ears
The mammal lays on her neck the rock
It lay not so lost

I tried to see the magazine she was reading
There was a supplement inside the magazine
The mammal woke from its operation

Packing my bag I now saw the hollow in a tree
The mammal scratched its head against the tree
The mammal examined her breath

106.

The vicar was possessed with a George Best romantic
His sermons dribbled tea into the laps of menopausal
widows. He was a window-cleaner for their dusty
greenhouse. He wound up his portcullis, & beckoned the
salutes in

On this sunny day his arms were a vocational washing-line
From his washing-line hung his Monday-Saturday chic
His ironed jeans measured the exactness of the grass verge
The children painted a banner that read ‘our lord tonic’

Thunder broke the clock-tower in three new books.
The vicar circled the cake of tower on his 21 speed
mountain bike. He had just returned from an errand of
carnivorous ferocity. Each time he passed the poppy
garden he spun his front wheel a full 360 degrees.

107.

It is always around the back at his end of terrace.
Always use the back door at his house. In through the front gate, lifting the gate to replace it back on catch. Past the front bay window. Blinds always down except when cleaning. Ducking the overhanging ivy and force that back gate open. Noting the sign ‘beware of the dog’, a picture of dog but no actual dog

Baby of two is in the bath, stirring and splashing. She hasn’t seen him. Father giving directions. Training toddler to become clean and not scared. In through the back door announces his entrance with clinking of bottles. Look who it is? He knows she 2 doesn’t know and stops with bubbles in her fists. Peering through the adjoining bathroom door The visitor explodes

Baby runs and clings to fathers legs hiding her face behind his thigh. Father runs his hand through her hair as uncle bends and pokes baby belly. Are you well and what happened there and I’ve just got to do this. Uncle is left in kitchen searching for corkscrew, eating cherry from bowl
Uncle hears small feat and larger feet and a scream from a hall coming

108.

stretch out his signature
and see
one long grey hair.

stretch out his wallet
and see
one night of grease

I broke the swing

109.

I open the door to two tape-worms
They sweat in an un-lit alcove
The bags are unpacked and the hinges are rusty
Neither have hats or eyes

I knock on the new door of personnel
I enter a mess of human admin
I stand and wait for them to finish yabbering

They frequent nail shops
A black & white thing happens
Maybe an age thing happens too

I win because I'm bulls-eye industry bred
I win because your hovel needs flabbergasting

110.

She once could have won a million pounds. She did not win a million pounds. It would have meant breaking into the money
that went on the weekly shop. She could not do that by rule
This is how they sell Daz ‘whiter than white’ washing powder

She met her husband in a dance hall close to the munitions factory. There was chandelier on the ceiling. There was a band at one end. As the violins played a big war covered Europe. It raged like a bastard. It killed millions. Some of whom were complete fools. Durex, safer than a trench.

Sidney was a sickly man. One of 12 inclusive of toddler deaths. Never one to speak, never one to say anything, he withered away. Chain-smoking cheap cigarettes. Unable to work. Unable in winter to rise from his bed
Playing the piano in the Stella Artois advert.

111.

The desk at Ellison was an admiral thick
The crest of spots to the left of my coccyx bleed
I tip the curtains to see suburbs milking the TV

We would play a game in that soft red spongy seat
We would give each other head until it was time for bed
It was strictly non-smoking except for characters

The iron bed changed female opinion of me
There were two questions on the turntable:
How did I steel it? Firstly, immediate. Secondly, ribbed

112.

[the] several ways of killing with a paperback
That was his Cinzano: useless facts.
Armed force remedies
Arbitrary collections of signatures
The kid was a nuisance in footnotes

Placing you in some tectonic grip
He’d spurt commentary
Cage your dough with his iron wench
Reporting through his squished nose
Time is running out for them such tendons
Or them such ones

Witchcraft took him at the end. It had no option
A syphilitic type hoo-ha depleted a good portion of his
onion. A nudge and a wink? We’ll never know.
Found slithering in his own dung. Knocking on doctors
doors at half past seven

113.

What the neighbours get up to is a business
What happens behind closed doors is a roaring success
What happens in China is taking over the financial world

What they do at number 52 is make love
Why she stares out the window at number 10 is boredom
How they use their flags at number 104 is up to them

The brightest new industry is next to me.
She is the wayward daughter of the Art bubble
Minute trucks reverse into the gap between big & next toes

114.

Roger is jolly in maintenance, catapulting
clicks electronic miles, cleaning
invisible spills with paper.

Deaf to the comedy bar-bell plummeting towards his neck
His corner of margin / error abides

She’s again is on his jukebox
Punching ill-service and smearing the glass

Roger returns to his Christmas stocking
Examining the stitching

Measuring the bed post with a complete Satsuma skin
His heel on a plastic bag

115.

I tint the windscreen by just not logging-on
The downside is pissing Colgate off the sink

116.

A posthumous burp is found
It is sandwiched between lettuce and bullwhip
Her rucksack is tangled in the doors of the train

I don’t have to tell her to sit down, she knows this
My hook is a mean bully gargoyle in hysterics
I offer her a mint one-liner to ease passage

tear # one wears the butterfly helmet
tear # two is the microscope passed like a bong
tear # three, 8 out of 10 real reasons reason me

If I could have a big bottle of lemonade and shake it I
would. If you would only show me your algebra
homework I could help. I would help you drag your fridge
to the garden to defrost if you asked

117.

The daughter of successful mother & father GP’s was red
She was always red. She was red in her mini tank
She took prisoners by the hair

The question of privilege is plain economic
Economics were under-stressed by the puller
Economics were overstressed by the pull-ee

Alice pronounced the buckle an elbow & flung
Punch said it was a mound with an arrow & sung
A compromise was never met over this metre of clam

118.

Bukowski wrote a poem
It snowed in LA
I saw a raw bum in Drury Lane

The flannel pink skirt had risen in a siren
The Mediterranean saw to its design
It wobbled because the pavement was made by the council

Pink Floyd made an LP with lots of chiming clocks
Pink Floyd told her friend to tell her why it felt good
You can’t blame Pink Floyd

I followed the backpacker for thirty yards
I was not like the greengrocer who was looking for the hole
I was heading to bum land where the gondola makes sense

119.

The orchestra is riveted by their tribute to harvest
The fairy elephant doesn’t know what’s beneath the stage
The audience is full of mechanics

Two fine dudes try on the head of a zebra
A boy in braces takes a solo to the board of governors
The audience are between Folkstone and Calais

Up goes the hatch, enough to break off a chunk
There is a shrivelled pea lodged in the jet.
The neckline of the performance never sat well

120.

I own a mine.
The state pays me to smack-it about
I got a hundred socials crying in that soil

121.

She stood in front of the kitchen section
said tea coffee tea coffee
she said tea coffee
offering tea or coffee
as she unscrewed the lid of either the tea or coffee caddy

She didn’t use her phone voice
She used a dumb ‘airline stewardesses’ voice
It was a voice she put on
It was a comedy voice that she did well

She next picked the individual out and asked them

e.g. John tea coffee
or Janice tea coffee

John and Janice may or may not respond in a voice of their own. She encouraged them to use voices of their choice

After she had exhausted those willing
She tallied up the number of teas and coffees
and arranged the polystyrene cups on the work space
Filled with tea or coffee ready for the boiling water

When the tea or coffee was made
She called you up to collect your cup

She would apologise [in that voice] for mix-ups
She would ask any late comers if they wanted tea or coffee
All done using the put on voice
I loved her

122.

War Pigs call the speaking clock
He slicks her hair back so she looks 6

123.

The oversize frying pan is half inch solid with bird-feeder
Lard. Across the rink are mice foot-prints and maybe a bird
How do you like your eggs?

Her tag is Bottle. Her nose was hooked down and her
Chin up. She believed me: when she had sex she counted
The twirls in the Artex ceiling.

Reg dared not to separate her from her breakfast.
Rex had something in his finger. The breakfast grabbed
Reg’s beard & shook the gruff until its frustrations were
Exhausted & floppy

A scaffold-tube called Death fell off the bridge and went
Straight through the canteens umbrella. It stood erect out
Of the floor until it fell over into an ashtray. It was the
Bursting fart of madness which came for a draw

124.

Flamboyant Charlie and his feathered flock wallpaper
He had the one with the gold leaf up for only 6 month
This new pattern is one long fuse, one wick & one button

Big Heavy Simple Simmons wrestles the Texas on the
daintiest porcelain cup. He places the saucer in his pocket
as he can’t get out of the chair. Charlie lectures his oaf on

the cardio-vascular empire. A1000 Dutch leather coats
were public knowledge. Why hadn’t he heard about
a thousand Dutch leather coats? That’s what the TV said

125.

Nancy hosted a party for her elderly mother Grace
All the family were invited
Some neighbours were invited too

Sherilee the adopted daughter worked at the bank
She had only recently started seeing David
David bought along a whole salmon
It was the buffet centre piece

The birthday girl entered the front room
She paused and stared initially, then realised what
Guests cheered and raised their glasses
The music went on

Grace flatly refused the salmon
She preferred it from a tin of salmon
Eyes rolled, someone cracked a joke
Then turned his head in embarrassment

126.

She called us sweetheart
She called us couriers
She said lily like a lily
She said pictures in cook book words

I took us on a beast
I took us where crooners tie the ties
I lived a second in plugged-up park
I lived without dripping minds

She said, ‘impressive gardener of these astonishing
builds, you amaze me’.
She shook us by the up-arms
She pulled us into temple on temple mode

127.

The late night dj aired his regret
There was a few seconds pause
He then played the record
We all listened to his regret

The song was, will she - will she be there?

It’s about, he said pausing
When you arrive at party, that moment, he said
You look for her, hoping to find her
Then you turn and there she is

He then played the record
And the song was exactly about that

It was about the heart holding its breath

When the record finished
The late night dj just said, ‘yes’. It was the yes in yesterday
He then paused for a moments reflection & continued

128.

Under the speakers were cloth-slippers protruding
I lower the accident down to the gravel forecourt below
I lowered the mass down in chunks of broken chocolate

I first noticed my eyesight was spilling its crow veneer -
I couldn’t read the score-line in the top LH corner. Was
the joke on me? I only watched the game to hear Welsh.

Time & Tide are the two middle names of Jefferson
Aeroplane. The jukebox was lowered into the front bar by
a Shire horse and pulley, orchestrated by an arm in a sling

129.

There was a hay loft. There was zinc
There was a brief interruption. There was a humid porch

Ivor held Mary. Ivor heaped Mary along his body-bench
Tomorrow it was pear peelings
Tomorrow it was wrinkled perfume

Ivor held a glider. Ivor held him a paper skull
There were hours for stirring. Hours for sieving poles

Ivor and Mary had never circulated like this
Ivor and Mary were close to calling it another name

There were contraptions. There were ivy ladders
There were examinations
There were lanterns on gondolas flickering & freezing

Ivor and Mary did not wash the crockery
Ivor and Mary did not answer the telephone. Ivor and Mary spent what time they had left chewing over boxes

130.

There is a knock on the caravan door
It’s a man
The man wants to punch my uncle
The man hasn’t seen my uncle for half an hour

In the morning the man returns
He apologises
My granddad says next time he’ll stick a knife in him
It’s agreed on
I see it

131.

There is a belt around her middle. She has never worn a
belt. She has never worn a dress like this
I look for the saint on the roof

This is not her. She cannot be trying for younger
It doesn’t fit her stripe. She is not flirty or ambidextrous.

I throw her some lines. I throw her some outs
They come back twice as hard. They come back extra similar

This is now investigative, so purposefully make errors in
my working. I copy her into my thrust
I drum my fingers and wait.

I wait
It returns full of red marks, violent X’s, thunder storms
& the footmarks of a bench that has been shoved

132.

The fear of knives. The use of the second chin.
The twisting & turning spasms. The flabby port
The grinding murder. The willy wally belly.

The somewhere spooky. The pinch and the pinched
The mad wagging tongue. Stretched out and hairy
The iron in the mouth in the mirror to see

I had come along way. I had steam. I had bird tooth
I had moped spectacles. I had karate. I had doing.
I had inbred conundrum. I had Donna in the pipe-work
[I had] lengths of tea & razor macaroni

133.

Loneliness erects its wind-breaker on the shore
It is a square shaped nook. It has the hands with 2 backs
Each hand has two backs and a certificate
The certificate is palmed for a trick of deception

Each morning at 5.30 am perseverance embraces the cold waters. The nuclear eagle pumps out its lust. She wears
a bathing costume and a bell. A bell that acts as a tail.
The bell you will find on a reception desk in Torquay

Recreation is tired to the tiles. Sipping his
protein drink – re-reading the label. Studying the label
The synthetic names are in bold. The plant extracts
are celebrated in stars. Twirling the crown
of Jack the Lad

134.

There is a cow shed in his portrait
Ire is a gurgle of fitting cross naughty words
The cow shed is full of restrained moped

There is guttering. There is a down-pipe
Putting guttering around the cow shed supports inclusion
of barrel. Though barrel doesn’t collect rain water but
dark black black humour

In the background is a dab of head and a dab of denim
Is the dab of denim approaching, waving a legal writ?
Or is the dab of denim leaving the scene with a broken
nose bleeding?

His maracas are hidden, but do you see the star on the shed
door? The star on the shed door is the emblem minus the
inscription. The inscription is covered by his thumb, it
reads: giving butterflies hell

135.

Either all your pieces are denim
or the lost piece is denim.

One side cannot not be denim
& the other nylon.

This is not about love.

This is about ladders
This is about jars

On & against the,
against the same thick shelf.

& for every orange peel.
She was apple peel.

& for every gas leak I sniffed
Her slippers were wet from water dripping

I won £1 million
She won £2.3 million

I bought a fine wife and a disco
She bought a ranch and started a gallery

136.

It happens very quickly in the hand of sand
A child enters the pit on a bicycle
Others dig in the corners to find the bottom

The ambulance arrives from behind the curtain
A crowd gathers on our holidays; on their holidays
Off they slither out of the campsite

They close the sandpit with a potty salute
137 stitches later the junior boxer returns
His sister wore her underwear over the top of her skirt

137.

The energy centre is measured in pounds, is ovoid,
and has a baby tongue. The energy centre is an organ, a
peach, a wig. It is stroked, caressed, brought into play, with
visualisation. A dough mind is instructed. Exercise & holding that pose is just one option.

It starts up the blood. Starts the heart. Starts the muscles remembering. The energy centre when satisfied will join in the exercise. It will like a servile clerk place the pen on the enquiry counter for you now to sign: for a feeling of physical & mental well-being.

The fitness instructor is there to remind us all of the energy
centre. She is there to keep us conscious of such. She is
there as a prompt. A bleep. A buzzer. She is there majorly
to promote the advantages of working with energy centre
Little detracts her from rallying harmonisation.

138.

Anna Bankcroft can’t come out today
The right Labia Minora is swollen
Everyone over the park is saying
‘do you want me to reduce you?’
‘shall I reduce you Mrs Robinson?’

Eating daffodils to show off
Breaking into the gardeners shed
Sleeping by tit lake

139.

There was an end of career. There was another
There was the matter of pay-of. There was some delay
Then that was taken care of

I didn’t sleep well for a week. I saw nightmares
I saw dead Anne. She was in an ovoid mist
She seemed happy with her lot

The summer was slow. The days were hot
There were a lot of flies. The temperature was in the 30’s
It didn’t cool off until September

140.

I was force-handled made to.
It was part of the deal. I had made no open deal
It was a deal to herself. I was pulled about.
‘There are just some things that separate me form you’
She implied. She insinuated.

‘Who the fuck are you washing?’ She took me as
some objection. I didn’t appreciate this. She was
heavy with it. & now I had to soap her half.

Small lights twinkled on the rim
I could have been a horse. I had work in the morning
She placed my hands on her breasts. Two breasts
My skin itched terribly

I’m now made to wait in the bathroom
I’m made to wait on the scales.
She drops something in the bedroom
‘Are you okay and all’, I ask nicely angelic
Wait till I’m done was the return
Wait.

141.

The hand that patted, consoled
And turned the owner with tongs
The hand that rubbed the shoulder, rubbed the wait
The hand said simmer, said nudge, said are we?

She felt some humour, some tonic
She felt some steam on a mirror

She felt something, something ringing
Something she kept to brain

She reported a solid a bounce a next a rind a warmth
She reported back a swigger a hoot a mark a tingle a blast

142.

The financial market(s) reporter - 5 foot 11, 180 pounds,
reasonably okay - clung to a flippant salmon.
He drowned in a river of no religious importance
or symbolic shape, position or location.
His bum bobbed for 1.8 miles, not unlike a cyanide capsule
Before picnickers, eating wild eagle, Nick & Sue
Him mild; Her sceptic, called their doctors on seeing
a graveyard of ghost ships & a man bobbing
The police were dinning with thought police and the
doctors that evening at Dukes eatery and carvery
It was a celebration with exotic dancers.
Begin the exhumation says the doctors, drunk. Call a state alert said the highwayman, inebriated. O my god a beast of
the Atlantic, said sceptic Sue. & that river was called
Bobby bob. Not eagle, or Sceptic Hill, or ghost graveyard
of ships. As bobbing reporter sailed on by into a large
black sack of used betting slips dumped illegally & wrong. & un-included in this tale as many dumped sacks are un-included in the naming of rivers & lakes & mountain passes

143.

His main outfit was cut’n’paste
The deliberate organising of numbers into neatly towers
of simple shape. Transferring data form one virtual tree to
another. Knitting a remedial boss to output.
What was seen on the page was not all to be seen

The boss was a gannet, a harp with no strings
The finer side of her may have a lot of small furnishings.
The darker side moaned at roulette wheels
Today she wore ‘Africa core’ influence (above belt)
There was green & brown. And green & brown weed.

Doubt rose one day. Rose as the face of a massive hot plate. It shattered the huge departmental mirror of ponder.
No one communicated trough the disposal of disposable
tea spoons. No one chanced their lace on a sandpaper
helter-skelter. We were at the hanging. In the hanging space.

144.

Her defence is her heels
Her son is not a policeman

Boutiques don’t want you on the grass
The answer is that many did

Perfect as a spy
Perfect as a concierge

You forgive for a clue
You forgive for a creep

You turn to your neighbour, as she leaves

145.

He can’t complete a sentence
Dalliance smothers Seigfreid Boston
A young entrepreneur with a flare for tomorrow

I’ve seen the Armada in his wallet
I’ve heard his citrus grove receipt pad
France is that shape, but France has special motorways

I’ve seen your certificate in the maple frame in the hall
It’s just there’s a carthorse where lice are usually excepted
And it’s evident - its bells! And he bell some

146.

The invite to the birthday party was a piece of paper
The piece of paper was rectangular with a bear in the corner. The baby bear was holding four flowers and a leaf
The bear’s partner was holding two balloons and a cake

I was told I must go to the shop and buy new trousers
I was told not to purchase bohemian style striped trousers
I was told to get trousers that fitted the crotch and thighs
I was told to bring home these trousers right away for approval

The trousers had hammers in the pockets for temptations
The temptation in the left pocket was from a magicians bag
The temptation in the right pocket was from the grapevine.
The temptations were aghast and pert and mildly calypso

147.

At 4/5/6 months pregnant there is hive derision
As the pimp moved sideways between rooms
It was filth: & he was the pioneer

Now this is the same patron who’d rub his shitty arse over
your doorknob. Stick his hands up his sweaty hole and
smear them on the empty plate while you were in the gents.

He gargled about the tit milk. Giving the kid a white hat
What she’d do for maternity leave, etc, the general
He ate the karaoke. He was a very rude clown indeed.

148.

1. The neck has been in the Deep-aunts hands
When I snored I was made to do hoola-hoops
There is an apparent cheese smell behind my lobes

I was spotted from the gallery floor above
Both sets of genitals swung into the sheets
You came at me like the end of a letter goodbye

From Denmark a party of touring doers did
Inter-switched goblets with sitting and bending
Inter-changed horns with funnier horns

2. The Deep-aunt continues under the stage
I take my seat at the back of the assembly
(with everyone else)
Looking meticulously through others heads

149.

His first poetry book was well received. There was no
danger or worms. There was no wringing of hands. There
was no rainbow. There was no smoke. There was no sparks
There was a quiet country bend. There this book crossed.

All critics, friend or stoat, are aware of the oak tree.
The oak tree is base or beginning. Afraid, unafraid. Mighty
A fuel for the pump in personal violin

The oak tree may drink a little wine. May eat a hot roast
potato. The oak tree may arrive in jaguar. May arrive by
force. The oak tree may know jealousy. May deliver meals
to old people. The oak tree may take an eon to peel the last
grape.

Summer in a tent can bring out nods, many nods. Summer
in a caravan wants nothing more than twists and turns.
Summer staring across a moor is longing for surfing. & so,

The oak tree and the critic share a campsite. Simply, share
a holiday. The oak tree and the critic survive a loss of
electricity. They have someone to tell. The oak tree and the

critic improve facilities. They also make wooden limbs.
The oak tree and the critic love grown men swinging in and
out of something.

150.

I set out for the bruise
I put on carp slippers
I float on top of their wish-list one-eyed

151.

When he opens his arms he is welcoming you to court
When he crosses them he is asleep in his castle
When his arms are in the air you’d better run
When they are by his side you will cry

He tells you his court is this peacock park
He tells you his castle is where he keeps his tools
He tells you his arms are full of muscles and hair
He tells you when he dies you will be homeless

Someone went to court and got a feather
Someone went to his castle and fell in the bucket
Someone went to school dragged by the hands
Someone went and played soldiers to practise dying

152.

The water sought the sewer
From the top down, the very top
It took the stairs skating

A claxon broke all our virginity
Sandaled feet scissor-cut around puddles
Bags were gripped by one handle only

Opinions had an odd tinge of decoy
Wardens with arm kept out, with foot kept in
A smallish sci-fi crept into cast

The lights gibbon was snapped off the branch
Red & white & armoured tape got sucked on
We all saw stood as pegs and hummed jets

153.

Lets call them Bert & Ernie.
Or, Ted & Ralf
Or, Charlie & Sid & John
John is the deceased. He is the missing member
He is a sullen lonely ghost in a leather jacket.
His grave has a photo plaque nailed to it.
Its convex nature gives John a mongoloid sneer.
It seems as John is stuck in a spoon.
Lets call them Charlie & Sid & John the spoon
Charlie & Sid are a double-act. John the spoon
could be used, but their comedy doesn’t include
conceptual harangue. Their comedy is a straightforward
rose. You turn up with a dozen roses and she’s run off
with the milkman. So you throw the roses off the bridge.
No wonder John the spoon is crying – no wonder his
Lens gleans of wooing plight.

154.

Morris is a cancer for worms
Of course worms can get cancer
The 3 bears have Muscular Dystrophy
Their spoons have fat handles

I didn’t want to chuck out Densil
but I had to chuck him out: its club policy
I threw him like a top hat onto a hook
I threw his suitcase into Kilburn High Rd

Densil has been trying to flog imitation Morris
Are you interested in any Morris? He asks
It’s funny because the coat is selling imitation worms

155.

The worn slippers are amateur carpenters.
Each individual community creates a skewed line.
Did you ever see a truncheon as a fountain?

The pillars are rolled herrings
The children had experimented with shapes
A broken nose emptied its pizza into the sink
.
The damn thing just wouldn’t work
A lady’s jacket on a gusty night along the Kings Rd?
The only monogamous entity is flint

156.

As I push the trolley into the lift
I see a guardian potato approach.

He is high with moral life.
With a trolley made of Pats. Doll sized Pats

I didn’t think they would try to get in
(the lift) (this moral life as such)
with me. But they do.

Lets recount.
Trolley made of potato, me.
Potato with trolley made of Pats.
Hi Pat.
Many Pats say hi back.
& in the mirror are hamburgers,
Large hamburgers, cut into halves?
All in a circle of chairs
Balancing in the echo of a sports hall.

157.

On the first day at the gym Paul lost his temper with a
Triangle. He was taken to a small room and understood
He was understood by someone who had taken two tablets

Someone who’d taken three tablets poked his head around
the door. Out of his three tablets, one was said to be the
link between animal and human.
Another of his tablets was not unlike virtuosity

Some people on earth had up to 10-12 tablets to choose
from. The nearest of these people was 35 km north west of
the gym - opening a tigers claw and seeing to it with
antiseptic

158.

With a ram on each lapel I crushed the fret of insomnia
I declared the herd were here.
I declared everyone look at their own fleas
I approached the bar. Pulling myself up next to a
lamppost and a commodity

The lamppost spoke sure of his motivations but had the
option of bright. The commodity had a plan which
stretched several sheets of iron & dirt.
My friends, I am a piece of Mind.

An unannounced trumpet of Mind
I am the pork of Mind. I am very close to being a
Dispenser of Mind. I am Chubby Industry & I pluck
The alien hair from the palette of crazy toys

159.

I am driving with my lady-friend to Brighton. I am behind
the wheel. She is looking away into ‘that’. ‘that’ is where
she looks when she is thinking. When she is thinking what
to say next. It would be better if she were looking into
‘this’. When it’s ‘this’, she is only a few seconds from
laughter. ‘that’, is where she looks when she is about to
explode. Look I say, ‘flying horny chickens’. Look, ‘the
farmer Zaps them, the machine wraps them’. ‘They fall
ready wrapped & fried into your lap’. I repeat it again but
in another voice. It is the voice of the boy from the film
‘Jerry Maguire’. I am pretending to be a very observant
boy reading a sign. ‘Free chicken. Free chicken’, I say as
Ray the boy. & sure enough – I can see her smirking. It’s
here I reach a dilemma. Do I continue with the chicken,
reach over and tug her arm, or use Rays classic line, its a
no fail banker, ‘did you know the human head weighs 7lbs’.

160.

TOP TV celebrity chief caught adding windmill to garlic
mash. Life now ruined in damp bedsit 8 clutching his one
plastic fork. The blow-up sausage roll is not his
Don’t mention flat-pressed pork.

The camera is a copy of LOOT
The enthusiasm is Diazapan
The menu is a bed-board knocking
With mice crying in the walls bleeding

Tonight an of out-of-date fire extinguisher has come for
supper. The dressing gown doesn’t cover all the table but a
black marker fills in. Using the fire extinguisher he breaks
free the bag of frozen coley from its bed. He apologies and
says maybe we should go again

161.

I was born with an extremely large mouth of despair
I had in my gap a large spank
I flapped on the patio bringing up the family tuna
I was the Frank in Frankfurt
The bearer in pall-bearer
See me and you saw the bloody chimpanzee thing
Aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas, and cousin Tim
Neighbours, past neighbours, visiting friends of neighbours
Huddled in the yard before bracing the door bell
Father carried a thick stick and paced the hall
In a small shed perched on the coffee table is where I babied. The smell of fabric conditioner and bleach filled the home. See me they said & you saw the back teeth in your ancestors. See me and you saw the pockets for clenched fists. I was doom. I was documentary.
I was messenger. I was salvation or bust. I was the product of a bored stable. I was Tom Waits’ song child

162.

George is 21 today
George waddles off to the crapper
George gets lost & ends up in Venice Beach

Venice Beach is a pile of roller-skates.
There is a pile of roller-skates the size of a pyramid.
Richard Brautigan and his buddy are trying a pair on

Who are you asks George?
Who am I? What are you on? Asks Richard
And the sea missed a wave & they all duck

‘We’ve got to get out of here’, & the three men
run to Big Sur. The sea follows them, running with its
hem at its waist. The genitals of the water are being
hunted by Japanese fishermen.

163.

He went into the police as his father was in the thieves
His mother put his picture on the wall
His father took it down

Just married recently that didn’t last
The family who he’d married into were all illiterate
They could only view enjoyment in 2-D

The marriage lasted 6 months
The cost was the best part of 60 thousand pounds
They had been together since teenagers

He is now dating a fellow police person
She climbed the best part of a ladder in 2 years
They get into a 2-seater red sports car and drive away

164.

She tended to wasteland horses at the white gate
Brushing the knots out of their manes
Seeing to the sores around their eyes

A letter had been written to the owner
Permission had been granted
Caution though had been aired

The owner pulled up in his Landrover
He saw the girl at the gate, this humoured him
He believed the girl was wasting her time
He smiled He got out and went over

The owner got angry when he saw dreadlocks on the
pavement. He had never agreed on this, ‘what was she
doing’. The girl spilled all she was holding back
‘It was cruel to let animals live in this state’

165.

It was the time to put the liver damage up flag pole
It was not a bad settee. It was vodka
His broken veins on his cheeks were Protestants
It was the cheque you made a mistake on before tearing up

166.

The shift ran from Corned Beef to stale tips
The Law library fed the puppy in jargon
The light in the foyer sat in the chair & broke wind

The job consisted of sitting close to earthquakes
There were two turnstiles and a burial fiasco
It wasn’t Greta Garbo. Issuing lost cards is a misnomer

Love ended that fall as did the flute
The Telephone Exchange exploded.
He trimmed his beard in sight of bossy headlining clouds

167.

The cushion of liberal parents
Fighting fascism with a dildo
A feather in a jar of luck