in the mornings, full of dread

i like to lay strands of my greasy hair

over my eyes, refocus, cornea stretching, scratching

allowing the silvery threads to become clearer

others to fade away, traces of breath on a freezing window

each hair picked out, some whispered, some blinding

like a motorway system designed by a madman

the veins of something not quite there

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teacher tells me to imagine the gunshots are just something silly

like a clown knocking over a priceless vase because he is clumsy

and there is one now, one vase down    haha

and then another maybe this one is a silly man

walking in to a glass door that crashes and smashes         haha

then I lie very still and don’t breathe

don’t breathe

because if we breathe they might knock...

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you were still when i found you so i picked up your body carefully,

as one would handle a crumbling manuscript from the thirteenth century,

with kids gloves – white vinyl gloves - and i placed you on my shoulders

and we walked and walked across great neon oceans

through cities with skyscrapers bearing over us like tidal waves of slate grey concrete

over searing hot sands that added ...

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and swooping down from the nest

we spied a vast swathe of humanity

a neon smear of life       just try telling

this bristling immensity

this rhythmic pulse

that somewhere god was dying               not dying as we will die

with weathered eyes and peeking bones

but dying in the hearts of each person who had                                faith

now crumpled   ...

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so powerful

to feel so afraid, alone

how lucky

how beautiful

to feel so connected by our inherent loneliness

a vast, waxy net of loss

everyone on their own track, intersecting never

forever, dead kids

forever, all the stars

forever, yet never –

shine shine shine

shine shine shine

shine do you see and shine

how dim my light is shine

yet shine my light so di...

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and now it is a doll, presented in court,

the kind of thing you laughed at with your friends

when they lampooned it on prime time television,

and now you are shaking there,

where, and this death is a thousand times,

like taking an apple core to the wet earth,

sliding it down to produce a simple cylinder of time,

the tears and laughter compressed in to tissue thin layers of reg...

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last night i dreamt that you served me

and my children, in a restaurant in the city.

that as you placed our steaming food on the table

you smiled a sweet malaise and caught my eye

for just an instant, but there were oceans in

that quick glance, the churning of a

thousand regrets. how you longed for

the children that sat beside me, for

stretched skin, teary eyes and tempers.

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i couldn’t tell you why the lights went out

leaving fruities and pips arcing

like doomed mobius strips above us

now the moths have nothing to fly to

so they turn on each other with pick and pistol

as the listless p-a-r-a-d-i-d-d-l-e that was my heartbeat

rose to a cacophony, the hollow-boned clouds fell to the ground

millions of tonnes of dense, unforgiving greyness ...

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At the corner of your mouth there is lightning

I am burning my fingers

Trying to remove the skin of a roasted red pepper

But someone, somewhere is dying

This songs climax is the lead singer screaming

‘ITS FADING’

But rather than the music dying down

It is getting louder and louder

So he must mean that the silence is fading

To successfully remove the skin of a red pe...

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Chabako temae

You tear in to the house

A hurricane of malcontent

And of course I am in

Waiting for you

My little wooden box

A nuclear blast

The stench of him rolls behind you

Down the stairs

A bridal train

Wretched now, I come, I come

Hakobi Temae

Atoms are split as

Mitochondria dance as

They spit from the soup and

Epochs clatter as

Yo...

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the kind of love that grabs you by the throat

i am trash and you are trash, an isthmus

have you ever just said fuck it

and felt the stars on your tongue

fuck it

hold the blood and the wine in your mouth

like sweet flesh made sin

kneel as a virgin

rise as a whore

turn to all the horrible, wonderful people

tell them it is too dark outside to turn the light within

for...

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his hands would raise the hairs

like marionette strings on the naked nape of your neck

a puppet, a plaything, and then and then

all teeth and bone and sinew

he fell on you, a wizard, a thief

a pirate, a spaceman, a monster

the heroes that swooned you to sleep

then him then hydrogen peroxide

pouring on a wound       breathless now,

your sweet oval mouth sang him arias,

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i don’t want this poem to be about anything

i want this poem to be the something

that other poems are about

because a bowl of fruit is

a bowl of fruit is

a bowl of fruit

but there is a tremulous enormity between

my fiery synapses

and the faded maps of my fingertips

it’s not

the sea

the sky

the life of

the death of

it’s

everything

waiting to get out

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my heart it beats an island - a rivulet of iron blood

that pulses below the sand with questions

like my place among the stars

like the pressure

how it builds-

on carbon

 then release! release! release!

like diamonds

like teeth

like father

like a place to cut the wildfire from our minds

while in the womb of the great, black dragon

you ask me w...

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you-      

under milky moonlight

you-

thrashing beneath my strong arms

here is the dirty man with the ruin between his legs

bleeding now, he is an ampersand, a victory

we pull his teeth from his mouth, screaming, crying

laughing, it’s raining                       

and because we cannot shed our skin

you can only climax

with a gun pressed to your

temple and i-

i...

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streetlights just bright enough to take away the stars

could be anything up there

schrodinger’s sky

the homeless are on the burn-pile out back

tidy them away with their festering sores.

there are eleven year olds addicted to skag now

dealing in the capillary-like alleyways that fall off the main street

legs soft like glow sticks under the sulphur beams of the fly-traps ou...

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1.

your cello warbles and purrs in the next room

and i know that you are wearing your glasses

they will be slightly tipped, sitting on that soft part of your nose

and you will be lonely, because the music that your fingers sing

hangs heavy in the dying air

2.

as time took hold of the tumour, your hand made its way up the neck

the notes became a plangent refle...

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when you poach an egg it is imperative to have a

clear vinegar mixed at a ratio of 1:20 with water as the

vinegar helps to hold the albumen together, ensuring

the egg stays in shape and the yolk remains soft while

the whites cook evenly. if the proportions are correct,

the air should sting slightly, catch the back of the throat

in the manner of a good weepy, something fragile.

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as if the highway were a simple white vector

a vibrating ribbon, flapping and flowing in the breeze.

where do the wild lights go to debate the stars?

a scream, a life, a copper-dusk-ditch becomes a dive-bar-life-boat

to those who can’t abide, and i might be able to quote perfect

‘the dharma bums’ as if i were a texan pastor, screaming the gospel

from hoarse lungs soothed lat...

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after three beers you saw the clouds for what they were

white letters on a pale blue background

but there is something inside you

something slick, metallic and unrecognisable

it comes up when you speak of your father

or when you hear the works of erik satie

you showed me how to plug your ears

so that the screaming turned to the whisper of the sea

a rattling wheeze stuc...

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until the rhymes and undulations

coat my worthless throat

like waves of acquiescence

i wont write my poetry for you

and ive been up all night, naked

and so frail, my gut my cock my balls

pale and inexcusable in the moonlight

thinking about those damn cosmic vibrations

thinking, dancing and reading the bible aloud

with joy in my heart

as we hurtled towards revelation

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does he weep?
upon seeing, oh
the chaos that
comes from
his supple fingers
working like needles
sewing a cloak of 
therapy and night time 
eyes open hall light on
does he weep?
in the woodshed
where it dribbles
down his thigh
the good stuff
a snail trail
the windows
unclean for a reason
yellowed net curtain
just incase 
just incase
prying eyes come spying
lies come tumbling
f...

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    oh immeasurable bounty
    a net of twinkling stars
    cast over and over all 
    we can reach with trembling 
    fingers, wide open mouths 
    agape, aghast, at sea at last
    the flood spears the heat as
    we spread our glass-like wings, 
    
   we fly away
            
   we seek the blush of autumn

   and solace from the sun

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grief is the thing with feathers - max porter

the swallows swam that evening as they
so often had the summer through, pricking 
the bruised peach sky with their infinite
spots, spits, peppering the sky with noise.
but they bled on your brain, everything bled 
and passed through the grief lens, 
the sickening beige of it all.

the siren that screamed at three o'clock did
not save lives....

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you are eating the glass the glass the glass
from the window from the smashed window
that you smashed because you love me
and i am pulling thin slivers of wood
from under my fingernails but we dont talk
ever never dont talk about how they got
under my fingernails i was dragged
dragged was dragged along the floor by 
my age old trainers and i gripped and slipped
and my fingernails found th...

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glacial
hand movements
a tracking shot 
slow motion sparkler tails
write your name in the midnight air
watch as the ashes disperse
the last thing you ever did
was ask a question
maybe you will find the answer
in sweet dreamless sleep

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there was a fire in my house that i could not put out 
so now i am living in your house instead 
and i am watering your plants 
and i am feeding your 
two dogs 
and i am feeding your 
one cat 
and i am teaching your son to ride his bike 
and i am fucking your wife

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We were never right for this world 

But would you really want to love someone who is 

The lord says I will be great one day 

Not great like huge and powerful 

But great 

But wait 

I see my loved ones only in pictures 

Only in shapeless, beautiful forms on the back of my eyelids 

I long once more for my mother's touch 

Basting those familiar nettle pocks with soothing cam...

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In tea leaves 

Though I don’t drink 

Tea 

His head appears, 

A warg, 

Fenrir, a ward. 

In salt in the sea 

Like crystals he drops 

Polyhedrons 

Mirrors image 

The wolf The wolf 

Cry wolf 

Throw fur around 

A shoulder 

A neck 

Blood like 

A pulse under 

Creped skin 

Bursts under 

Pressure 

From teeth  

From fangs 

In the grain 

Of...

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dark room yellow light sulphuric beams like sheets of bewildered hope  

pick out in shapes and shadows, the motes of dust the child, malnourished, fat belly  

ribs poking up creasing sickly tissue skin the eyes are bright so bright 

but it’s a blinding, severed plea come close come closer the stench is a flavour 

it sticks so heavy to the roof of the mouth, the palette peels at its rev...

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These are my words 

And this, this 

Is my tissue, my salt, my bones 

My earth my worth 

You are a bell 

Your tongue 

Hits my body 

My yoke 

My yolk 

I touched you once 

Now you resonate inside of me 

Forevermore 

In a field 

A field of  

Dandelions 

Time swirls around us 

On a breeze a whisper 

The gospel calls this  

Devotion 

My devotchka 

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While it may often seem  

Like we are drowning 

Alone in a sea of faces 

It has been whispered 

Throughout time and space 

That under the cool hope of spring 

We will turn our heads 

Like so many beautiful flowers  

Towards the true god 

The shining sun 

And music will fill our ears 

Blossoms will burst forth from our bleary eyes 

We will kneel before the questi...

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i was tearing the wings from eagles

while you caught mayflys

with your forked tongue

try grief so thick

it crawls between your legs

then come home

honey pie

lets dodge

lamps and crockery

like we used to

when it was raw

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we must be brave when everything is taken away – janelle rainerz 

i smoke the cigarettes of your father  

green eyes red lights white ankles [scarsyourmother  

wouldneverexplaintotheneighbours] 

dirty leaves low autumn sun push finger into socket like an egg it pauses weeps 

become beautiful for me as i move your tongue i own you 

updownupdown 

become beautiful for me let...

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i am writing again 

because a crow  

has appeared 

on my windowsill 

its leg is injured 

its beak is smashed 

there is blood in its feathers 

a plastic crow 

pristine and beauteous 

would be better 

a plastic life 

a coat of melancholic gloss 

to smear over the acne scars of life 

i wonder if 

like the inuit weaklings 

sent out to become men 

un...

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One swollen calamity 

Crawls from between 

The bloody legs of another 

While the rain/the fire 

Flicks, a buzz roll on the pane 

I can taste the honey in your sighs 

You are a needle in my arm 

Your tongue traces galaxies around my navel 

Flattening my hairs like pine trees in a storm

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Give me the sound of a thousand hearts beating 

S t a g g e r r e d to make one thrum of knowledge 

Of life.  

Oh how I would love to melt you down 

Like darkest chocolate, would you flow between my tongue 

And the part of me that has no name 

To mingle with spit and soul

Hold me until the light comes once more

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'only six feet of earth makes us all equal' - old italian proverb

these flowers remind me of the pale horse. like Sycorax, pulling strings 

blood red roses, dark brown earth strewn on a lifeless box of teak and tears 

how I would watch you extinguish the burning hot tip of a panatella on your tongue 

and we would peel off our sopping skin and dissolve into one another  

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the sky is the colour of the ripe plum bruises on your arm 

baby fat pinched too hard by yellowing talons, nicotine digits 

somewhere something wonderful is happening, but not here 

somewhere something wonderful is happening, in reds and blues- 

velvet seams of jade and onyx explode outwards at a million miles a second 

in jerusalem someone is tasting apricots for the first time.  

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the human race is deeply flawed

and power does corrupt

still yet we cry, a wailing wall

morality erupts

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Bed (n) - 

A place to rest after a long day, dressed in cotton, a soft grave awaiting its temporary guests. 

A perpetually unmade mess, stained, damp with sweat and semen, a back-alley mattress surrounded by metal bars 

Sun (n) - 

Life giver, radiant, burning cacophony of light and sound, warming the hides of those that dwell below its shining face. 

A dentist lamp, a spiders e...

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the blind man treads softly on the faces of the damned 
a carpet of screaming babes, black foam emesis erupts  
as the scabbed feet of the lost soul wanders across the wasteland 
all around him flutter the stained glass shrapnel of torn butterfly wings

borne on a wind of ecstatic moans, the virgin, now punctured, eats dirt
he wears a crown of albino peacock feathers, but for that he is nake...

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the bouncer stands strong, a titan in a flood of rats     pouring through the gates 

his heart erupting from his frame    

his veins stand proud, plasma filled leylines navigating his mishapen arms 

the tight white t-shirt barely concealing the telltale pockmarks of steroid abuse 

tattoos like cartography, mapping his descent from nubile, frosted youth 

to glazed middle aged man, a ...

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We are lying in your bed 

The taste of cocaine and scotch still haunts my mouth 

It seems like you are asleep so I touch your hair 

You turn to me and ask me if I want to have sex 

I say no though every cell in my body burns yes 

One of us has wet ourselves and I hope that it is me 

Because you must feel it too and if you feel that I have wet myself 

But still love me enough t...

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hooves of fire crisp the moss of the darkened moors and 

the sky isn't falling, it's just skin, stretched and starred, crackling 

overhead. we exist in a cloak made of prescriptions, little yellowed 

notes telling us where to be and who to smile at. in svalbard, i watch 

the northern lights, a neon bruise on the tiny patch of infinity that 

splits atoms above my head. chip away the ...

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