The remains of a day                                                              

lie extinguished, discarded,

disregarded by the passers-by.

Silver-tipped echo of a mouth

unremarked upon

and common

in its everyday normality.

Evocatively comforting

in stained familiarity;

an endless capability

for rainbow possibilities

of shining eyes and laughter l...

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Tin to mouth

Tin to feet

One jig to reel

enough to eat

Is he broken, broke, breaking

on the pavement by the station?

Is he played, paid, playing

to his own tune or to yours?

Tin to mouth

Tin to feet

Two jigs to reel

enough to eat

Do you jingle jangle shillings

in your pocket as you’re walking

past the tinsmith making

all the magi...

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stealing pieces of experience

to place them just outside of your own

j                                

            i

              g

            s

            a

            w

         y     our

semiotic symptom

of a need to reproduce;

connote two-tone heartbreak

tragedy ripped

from a 2D playground

second-hand realities

suck on r...

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In this corridor of song,

invocations colour space

now devoid of human voice,

as spirits whisper here

of hysterical imprisonment;

of torture painted pink and blue

and baa baa black sheep have you any

                                                              Hail Mary full of grace

Supplications resonate

in hidden mouths

as mournings cry to sing of l...

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crouched

quiet in the crackling grasses

hidden

listening to clouds swell heavy

ready

waiting for the judgement hour

of cutting

scythed where the ears can’t hear you

running

trusting steel to complete this

sowing

now that the earth lies sanguine

sodden

drip drop rinse and release your

sin...

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Mr Martlew

would you mind

if I sit awhile here

in the shade on my own,

you hushed in your hole,

in the valley of the shadow?

Shall I re-draw life

in the black lines etched above your bones?

Did it hurt?

Were you scared?

Do the stones weigh heavy?

Do they creak beneath the roses

and the green glass gravel?

Did it hurt?

Were you scared?

Were you read...

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Ferris ocularity,

observing holy motion,

facilitates the weaving

of an elemental web.

Cirrus drips precipitate

a waving,

all devoted to rotation,

sewing oceanic lace

and braiding rain

to brine the breeze.

Pleasure seeks a penny slot

as bed and breakfast tongues

lick the candy cane locale.                                                            ...

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I wanted you right from the start.

As soon as I saw you, all shiny and showing,

inquisitive shimmerings leapt in my neurons,

grew fast and furious, battering synapses,

crashing through cortices,

carrying fire.

Bewitched! A thousand fantasies sparked and swirled in frontal lobes.

You shifted shape from mind to page,

drew me in, singing from a sheet I thought we sha...

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