stanza 7 – july – locker 91
tue 1 – locker 91
whenever i can get it i take locker 91
the needle as the razor ice cold like a gun
bounce a buttcheek out the bottom of your beltskirt and i’m shook
but don’t jump, please god don’t jump
overmorrow will come and tomorrow will be yesterday
i am an intellectual and i watch election special (eh?)
rich e. sunak gone with the small sound of a [cough]
neither feared, loved or loathed
a dog that never bit, or barked. just soiled and wet the bed
may he eat out a career, helped out to get ahead
by the mediocrity reapt from our tired ground
which through the veins of parliament abound
wed 2 – just ruthlessly enforce them
now i’m 40 i can’t work computers or my phone
i don’t make the rules. i just ruthlessly enforce them
at least i no longer leap to the tories’ whim
girl gang, geoluhread mango tango continuum
90s memes are back in favour
things can only get better bet moar dead raverz
first to the pub and the tank lager is off for permanent
but there is no better feeling than voting out the government?
tue 8 – its jagged timbre
as long as a hand and as tall as a long finger
there’s comfort in its jagged timbre
no banks but thorny river banks and building societies
deep section diversion, shrine and a cuppa tea
on the juliet, the wind cries mary jane
jesus christ, socialist, there is no pope in heaven
romeo, no devil below, no hell but earth we know
this exact moment is the only thing happening in your life right now
and it’s a powerful thing to be loved, regardless
regardless of anything you ever have or have not done
wed 9 – a man in high viz
brain foggy social pariah, a covid redux
the pistoled bard of excise rejects my claim for input
useless plugged nose, gunged the viral info into the schnoz exhibit
assaulted. i’m looking for a man in high viz.
with a trust deficit
and a driving ban
and a financed tinted window sports utility van
or an elegant young woman-but will she let me ride her to
ingliston horse shop, mount blow, nasal and wet
soaked in sweat, shivering, bottom lip quivering…
i have the taste in music of a precocious teenage girl
if you’re gonna whack the boss, it better not be botched
[sniffs] you smell that, son? that’s football, and it’s coming home
ah no, they lost
we all rely on the good souls who forgive us.
wed 16 – naked to the invisible eye
naked to the invisible eye is my conscience
so jaded, they almost shot the president; i didn’t buy the paper
the elbowed class are occupied, betting the house on forex
honest labourers: poets, cleaners, cooks, balance on the breadline
not even the climate crisis promises to kill with equality
that’s ermine hegemony, they’ll colonise the moon
before one less race, people or nation leaves immiseration
so on every day’s agenda keep an item just for you
say no, instead of yes, and swear allegiance to yourself
and see yourself in every other soul
thu 17 – the universal now
we live in the spur of the moment
and we can protest or conform, it
is a choice we make from minute
to minute within a limit and maybe within it
there’s a justice extinct clink.
am-me-sia, a daily battle with my lived reality
and it’s not reckless to travel vulnerably
not if it’s premeditated….
tue 22 – men only
“men only” in the gents loo
none of your wokery pokery for sure
in our punishment society, though i advocate for justice
each disaster brings a wonder that our
species carries on with
this system that penalizes age, health, gender and bad luck
the strong are loud and like atlas they shrugged
so by the seat of my pants and a matchbook of gyp
i watch the green place dip from the cauldron’s lip
wed 23 – soy flat white
she goes by hot chocolate, that makes me soy flat white
karmic on the balcony, sharing a thunderstorm,
writing this poem, i hear my queen through the wool
and feel the love epochal
in napoli, where love is king, the pizza is immortal
and a thousand wonky steps climb to a hot pink moon.
tue 29 – stressa, italia
the train stretches and yawns to a peripatetic merry go round
down a wonky corridor
arguing inarticulately; things we can’t control
an azure mountain panorama and delicate fish
blue moments punctuating the trattorian cycle
even the trees are blue
bodily warmth, the wind sliced small by my forearms
above the alps i contemplate my mirror world souls
i wonder how they’d feel, those me’s i could have been
torrents of nostalgia may bombard us
pain may tattoo our love
despite tourettic itches and compulsions
it would be good to be good for the sake of being good
but i recall us mortals are careless and forgetful
good souls will forgive one and all
wed 30 – ill or kind
did you eat my toblerone, cheeky kiddo?
i shall now claim that if you’d asked,
i’d have shared it.
i have a theory that
when it really matters,
we should all be treated as equals,
without bias ill or kind
different but the same
stanza 8 – august
tue 5 – the 13th month
the bell chimed, it’s time
to introduce the thirteenth month
rationalise the calendar with months of 28 days
plus an extra day, a global holiday
for all workers
during which the bourgeois financiers
shall man the (beer) pumps
and another one the same each leap year
and the extra month should be a holiday too
slide it in between july and august
call it hedonia, for a long free summer.
wed 6 – excoriated content
i just realised i am probably autistic
sign up to my only fans for more excoriated content
my natural selection is intensive introspection
medley relay, amazed, amazed
that butterfly is a cromulent procedure
sour jam and feta pancakes, likewise sensational
tue 12 – wet salty hotdog
i believe in a barista, coffee and jog
to cut through the morning fog
primary cafeteria, inchoate aroma
of wet salty hotdog
you get the key to a new place of great significance
brompton over, you invite; but take your moment first
i get there and the floors are up
circular saw sounds erupting
drag a trail through the dust
alone, together, us two and all of us
wed 13 – step change
down for pinting up the soft and pleasant hues of bath time
step change, ladders direct,
get a price on a dark moneypiece
what about pantries is it that brings me to tears?
meltdown quietly, astir all night,
we each start new two chapters
wind our stories together
inky pupils blotting out,
another lost doppelgänger
fri 15 – the hidden room again
sometimes my fingers tingle with emotional pain
did my therapist just fire me for my autistic brain
i find a new hold on my struggle
like that hidden room in my house
your scent a silken foam on a bubble
on the stratosphere
well that’s how it smells to me.
three punctured wheels transport me
to a helpful little place
they can’t replace my tube,
but confirm my diagnosis
and i return to you and sandpaper away the imperfections
but we are sure to leave a few,
so that things can be perfect enough as they are
besides, all good souls forgive each and every imperfection.
tue 19 – chris died for our sins
bloviate, bee, big bottomed anarchists
he died for our sins did chris
at least he would, if we asked
purple and green sweetie hills and a puddle of rust
the life chameleonic, commodified, in crisis
for the third 13th and final time,
k imparts her counsel and i’m not cured
but tearful and reflective. i think she liked me after all
wed 20 – human misery, revenue & customs
i conclude it must stand for human misery,
revenue and customs
israel is a strategic geopolitical position,
a frontier of colonialism,
and its postsoviet bravado is borderline offensive.
i stand in opposition to ethnic cleansing,
whoever practises it
and i guess i’m soft-versus all conflict;
gies peace fae yer game a soldiers
the lifespans on the cusp of either or
then i walked into my bench with such force
that i shrieked and writhed on my floor.
fri 22 – timetable tragedy and timetable farce
of course, next year with the introduction of the new calendar,
the edinburgh festival will move from august to hedonia
should i feel nonplussed by a non pluss-one-ing
when the price of capitalism is eternal vagrancy
twelve hours in edinburgh twice from quarter to twelve
twice no train at half eleven, tragedy and farce
catch up on couch and life’s little errands
tue 26 – the knot is twisted back
i wish i knew what i wanted. for dinner.
monday morning and the knot is twisted back in my gut
the thirteenth rodeo, the second non-event
month-end creeps up, the knot does too
patch anxious rum for philosophy on the radio
make a random avizandam on a tandem with the phantom fan
cross the eyes and splot the teas
cracker please
wed 27 – the last day of summer
get out of the city, they said, it’s the last day of summer
the pierced beef monster prances like a panzer
leaving me stranded in my body with my pain
spent like a torn fiver on rest and be thankful again
i feed the birds i make them sing
good souls do forgive everything
fri 29 – theory of art
more chocolate, aye? indolent wean
you can’t afford it so you’re not having it
i have a theory that ultimately art is just a way of filling time, no more noble than sports
different but the same
stanza 9 – september
tue 2 – i postulate a remedy
i postulate a remedy that dismantles temporarily
the apparatus of the mind that filter and sieve
and obfuscate the things historic versions of the user
have deemed to be unhelpful.
the patient’s neuroplasticity is augmented,
the user returned to her pure, infantile character,
unvarnished by cynicism, laughing at the creases on her fingers,
laughing and forgetting everything.
available from all good doctors.
wed 3 – iceberg lean-to
i construct and unscrew,
mucky pup grana podano iceberg lean-to
banana brought to the monkey puzzle tree party
interoception fails me, intercepted daily
life in general is supremely () based
release back lever,
push the back backwards
and it pings back forwards
yeah i’m bringing back sexy back
fri 5 – diarrhoea and dandruff
put primo down, nobody cared, not even humoured
zapped and solitary, unarchiving and decrypting
violent gut, cash drop,
shy black sheep dribble down a gravel path…
as a poet it frustrates me no end that i am able to articulate my identity crisis
only through the bodily language of diarrhoea and dandruff.
tue 9 – prick threw an egg through
flashback to the day apple watch ultra two was launched
launched like the egg some prick threw through my open window
thanks for that. prick. i’m going to clean that up one day
or paint over it.
wed 10 – 5 beta 1
i make a million lists
and enjoy morning mist
from november 2016
us cyclists are cut from different stuff.
but not very much of it
aged 39, version 4.0, aged four-zero, version 5 beta 1
you gotta believe me, life comes for you, son
fri 12 – plug stuck
an overwhelming day, a meltdown throws my phone away
the bath is full of soapy water, the plug stuck in its circlet
it’s thursday the 12th, what the fuck will tomorrow bring?
i start the drill and it’s enough
to scare the plug from its crown
tue 16 – smash and ooze
you smash the avocado, bring the force within you down
your zeitgeist, your energy and spirit
oozes, you infuse us in it
but our guests left us with an odd moment
mutually dysregulated, endlessly in torment
good souls do forgive all souls, but is every corpus soulful?
wed 17 – mortal again
in how many people’s memories do i still live?
what degree of blur, how precise an image?
there is nothing mere about mortality
there will be humdrum finalities like the last cup of tea
the last step in the sea. the last shag
the last time taking out the bin bags
so i say memento mori at least every day
and when things get hard, i’ll try to be there
tue 23 – the crops blaze
a sunny eve with keith, watch the crops blaze
dump, no whiff of a gap, sewer works (the job pays)
i dispel return to indefinite limbo
doing surveys shirtless on the deckchair, a himbo
you know i cried every day for a year after i left
and 17 months on my life’s still a mess
wed 24 – the tempo of doms
to the sweetie shop why stop there’s no consequence
i run and i come as close as i’ve came since whence,
rage rover through the stroll pastoral
cape town to mugdock bog,
wide spectrum gossip, conspiratorial
prone to panic about others’ perceptions
a tendency revealed through a habit of projection
concept album? i am living a concept life
into the tempo of doms i go, abandon strife
the internal rhyme rolls the rhythm, through indecision to precision
yes i am getting organised, on a mission
to rise up contra to mindless repetition
yet once again i combine olive oil, chilli and paprika in the kitchen
fri 26 – degenerate cosmopolitan
i’m not jewish but i am a degenerate cosmopolitan
tagging my archive, overwhelmed by the burden of time,
the library extends my being
to a new dimension, my mind fleeing
to the shelf. and when i see a single magpie i blurt, i say
there was a second one but i scared it away
down glens and valleys, down spirits and sedatives
my love is unambiguous
but the good souls may as well forgive us
tue 30 – chorus number nine
brazen child, pray share your toblerone with me
i know you pinched it but i’m no a grass
i have a theory that the criminal law system propagates violence in place of justice
different but the same
stanza 10 – october
thu 2 – save for what?
my good friend steev had a job when teenaged
saved up, quit, bought a guitar with his wages
said to me once: what are you saving up for?
lately i think about that more and more
and the other recurring dream
loading the trolley with all the treats
and waking up before i eat them
fri 3 – is this the up dog?
it’s a genuine question
if life is just the things you do
the sensations and the stories that you tell yourself about them
maybe i better redo the utilitarian calculation
buying a guitar and quitting might suit the situation
but this isn’t the down-dog, this is the up-dog
dawn’s copper crown high on my morning jog
tue 7 – locker 91 revisited
i make a faith deposit in locker 91
b808 beats along
through the state of glasgow
lucy breenges to the counter
by the great-posture pub monster
pistil shoots and buds later
i have a callus from daily hooving
(with the hoover)
everyone you love and you will die one day
so i give thanks while we share the same air
wed 8 – the pb
race day nerves, alert,
waiting for the call to stool
and then a heady wait for armistice
two centuries less a decade,
my heart rate for eighty-six minutes
wobbly, aching legs, perplexing personality test
pleasant materteral assessors suggest i am for def. autistic
fri 10 – baby-boomin’ woomin’
all my life, baby-boomer woman
have told me i’m good looking
and from hereon in such women
shall be my heroines
tue 14 – i learn slow
i shall need several weeks or months off work
in the early stage of a new religion,
i need time to make it up
pull an apex grin
888 my spectral sum
charm a devil at an intersection
and sell your soul for sin
best check the small print
because i learn slow
but at least i know
wed 15 – ms. diagnosis
i only realised i had dimples
when i was 39
it’s fair to say i have a disconnected
state of mind
my health so misdiagnosed
i associate doctors with hurting mine
so let’s let this limerent love sing fine
aside regular meltdowns,
it’s still the honeymoon time
we bond beyond the boundaries of skin
and trust that good souls forgive everything.
fri 17 – the elucidation
hey. imagine if everyone knew everything
not about the physics and philosophy and the universe,
god and the mystery of life;
but about every dirty thought you have ever had,
and all the gossip since the pharaoh and moses
smoked camel lights in negotiation
round behind the pyramid
not just who horsed who,
but every weird wet dream too
we would be more liberal and better behaved i should think
subterfuge stymied,
the obfuscated elucidated.
tue 21 – culinary weekend
gloriosa, parliament sauce,
crises on the high seas
a paddling pavarotti leaves
in degrees of blue cheese
graduates to a sextet roundtable gaff christening
make the dog wait late to get out in the rain
halved iced raw lobster twitching
piled up plates in the kitchen
wed 22 – actually existing capitalism
life under actually existing capitalism continues;
a unique combination of boring and stressful.
face it, i’m never going to be a hot porridge-man
i think trusts are somehow fundamentally immoral
for tax wheezes and to sneeze-on late diseases
build car washes and slag heaps on the green belt!
speed eden’s fall to its infernal conclusion
fri 24 – the hoarse foreman of the apocalypse
the firewater fades to a numb, dumb dysphoria
as we tag along
behind the hoarse foreman of the apocalypse
on foot due to cutbacks
we lost the yoga word to an armed counter revolution
modish clatty vogon rogues
namaste, karaoke, ok?
tue 28 – vulvic pud
fruit forward vulvic pud, touched,
lingered upon, picasso pubic crumb
a tender rebirth, but is this the beginning or the end,
reprise: why does your love hurt so much?
wed 29 – many vietnams
a day without contact,
perhaps it’s really passed
two, three… many vietnams.
now detente,
defcon four, defcon five
cooled down conflict. digging trenches.
trying to stay alive
love is unconditional, but trust can be lost
a provisional impasse that can’t last
defcon three, defcon two
don’t turn the dial to first
but good souls have forgiven worse
fri 31 – airport toblerone
airport toblerone? spoiled child
and a backpack of packs of lambert and butler
i have a theory that good things wait for those who come
different but the same
stanza 11 – november
tue 4 – the failure and possible redemption of language
we don’t yet have the language
for the time in which we live
the 2010s, the 2020’s,
don’t feel lived in like the 90s
like naturally stressed 501s
two sizes too big
in every direction
y2k was the last mass adopted nickname
there is no confidence yet
in the unfolding millennium
so i propose a radical redetermination
y2k of d2k,
then d2k.1,
now 2k.2,
or, i posit “point two”
in practice
thu 6 – the you/me confusion
you know,
when you want to please
to mask, to be accepted?
you know,
i mean, why do we say you
when you clearly mean me?
when i clearly mean me
when i mean to say
i’m a people pleaser…
but i’m not good at it.
sat 8 – as a poet
at work once an i.t. guy
told me his wife was employed
as a poet!
a real life poet and
(poet and educator)
this man changed my life.
unfortunately,
via a mishandled data migration
that caused me to career
onto life’s soft verge
in a slow motion car crash.
my poetry remains unsuccessful.
tue 11 – war poetry
poets operating in your area
have taken ten per cent off gdp
put out and pensive
(to be is to be)
we work best from the trenches
the snipers are barely interested
in no man’s land i meander
absorbing vile inspiration
trying to get my head
into your crosshairs
thu 13 – bad election
i’m freewheeling with neil in a sodden cloud
commiserating on the unproud
behold the convict’s re-ennoblement
i live with my pain, i own it
and i don’t care who knows it
chain-whip for a strain
against the pain
with every novel
life-stage crisis
i achieve a new, anal
level of organisation
sat 15 – self-care weekend
search term “gumtree”
eight hundred items
cried three times
in a basic way,
people are just
what they do and say…
cold dry, hot dry,
hot wet, wet wet
transcendental massage
happy tears ending,
middle,
and a bit near the start
when she took my feet
like yeshua of nazareth
then clasped my palm
like the virgin mother
tue 18 – hat!
chapeau, cav,
did never ever
cross your mind?
you’ve earned intense relaxation
and benign mischiefs
after a slight return
prepare to overcome;
my melodica fingers play
an old faithful tune
like riding a bike?
but am i charming anyone?
chapeau, cav!
thu 20 – thinking about public executions on the subway
a higgledy-piggledy queue
of spewing machines
an unexpectedly bustling tube
with elastica from the high rises
stretching out rope for hangmen
pickpockets do operate
in the gallows’ courtyard
the good souls forgive,
but are they influential
with headsmen?
sat 22 – the inhospitable hospital
i’m much more comfortable
dwelling on failure
success is trite.
just comes down to luck
it’s in the losses
that we make our bones
wandering in sonder
through other souls’ stories
in a shared bubble of
mutual miscomprehension
five leafs left, so i turn one over
the motorized spaghetti moat
keeps patients at an asthmatic gap
tue 25 – typist, poet, athlete, hi
get jacked up,
no imposter testostero-monster
typist poet athlete spy,
i wonder why i have this tie
to the human condition
a horny cowboy,
clit eatswood on a mission
it took me forever to realise
what consequences were
and remain
i’m still not sure i really get it
as we stand on the verge of
nuclear armageddon
let’s discuss commodity fetishism
from an original position
rejargonise my vocabulary,
please, textbook on notation
thu 27 – returning the oversized funglasses
can you come to terms with who i am?
can i?
in d2k i rhymed ‘if soon i don’t die
i’ll wonder why’
and still i wonder why —
the complexity infinitely expanding
reluctantly giving it all my attention
beat up and run down
an ex murder victim…
i wish i was more confident
but i am returning the oversized funglasses.
fri 28 – embiggened by a little soul
be lovers on standby,
not friends with benefits
celeste’s carnation
in the barrel, in the gun
chuck your moveables in
for a risk-free freebie
even a little soul
embiggens the forgiven
sat 29 – chorus of the lost weekend
are you ready for your advent wafer,
manger wean?
’tis the season of debt and accumulation
i have a theory an arbitrary line
divides the mad from the sane
different but the same
stanza 12 – december
tue 2 – love me like a holocaust
influenced by scottish ned culture
a natty factagonal
revolutionary rear guard
my interest is piqued,
love me like a holocaust
quirkful monogamy
unpromised and distant
transient specs
in the universal scheme
sonic balance
tripping me
thu 4 – endless time
how would you feel
if everything happened forever
if every moment of your life was still ongoing
everything always in total contradiction
i want the unexpected
off script, dumbfound me
astonish me quick
with your attention to retail
when they finish the history books we’ll see
we just have to just accept the past
it happened
sat 6 – lonely consequence
maybe we can choose
our consequences
and gain energy as the
days accumulate
have i mentioned my inability to visualise the future?
scared, listless,
unreadily forced to bear witness
a dusken golden moment lighted
a sudden recognition;
that leaden feeling
when they tell you, you are going to die
is loneliness,
as much of it as you can have.
tue 9 – inconclusive, in conclusion
anyway, that was yesterday,
with that we close the chapter
for now the winter sun flits
over scarecrows, toclips and frosty nips
and it all begins to feel conclusive
but then the things as usual
start to get ambiguous
and once again of the good souls
we must ask forgiveness
thu 11 – hate don’t beg
do we believe in the power of love
to conquer all?
hate doesn’t beg patience
and demand generosity
maybe i’d have preferred life in an asylum
in my bedtime mind pops
my first foreign trip without my parents
there i am, eleven,
living in a world i don’t want to live in
still here, alexithymic through fear
decoding signations from the incarcerated adjuster
interpreted via reddit memes
sat 13 – christmas traditions
a message from a fond reunion,
hidden in a bottle
overdrafting on my sidling savings
a big bright banging badhead
brings a boozeless bath
often when alone i think,
“this is exactly what an insane person would do”
and that means i am sane
i feel the agony of love
and recall that the future never happens
tue 16 – the minor scale
how could i be complacent
now that i know
the minor key is
just a line below…
is there a word
for the sense of being
so fundamentally insignificant
on the scale of the cosmos
but so important
to those who love you?
if not, can i suggest
we are all imbued
with great minificance;
as every speck of stardust
lights its own constellation
and is lighted
and it has been an honour to share
our hour on the rock together
thu 18 – the war on wars
veteran of the wars on terrorism
drugs, poverty, intellectualism
now let’s declare war on concepts
and rush into combat
clench fisted and limp wristed
the joy of the process is doing it again
g sharp minor has all the black sharps
do you remember the shoe people?
i realise
i myself am a slow cunt
who thinks it so important
that the words look nice on the page
with nice punctuation:
in all the nice places!
sat 20 – atlas tugged
earth is comprised of water, mud and metal
so is the human body.
and as we pump pollutants into the air
we literally incorporate them,
a singular ticket to where?
i’m in my prime and,
unlike miss jean brodie,
atlas tugged
people expand in space to take it all
when i just want to be so small
hitlerism is coming back
and i’m as depressed as i am scared
and i’m suddenly not sure,
is everyone humouring me or not?
tue 23 – christmas cheer from ear to ear
i was sent from outer space
to complain about the traffic here
with christmas cheer from ear to ear
and elephants never forget new year
there is finite information
in any place at any time
but my question relates to the data
pertaining to time past
i mean, i feel the breath leave my body:
how can i get it back?
thu 25 – the christmas rush (for profits)
we share lunar nectar
from the honeymoon phase
i’m melodramatic.
a little bit insane
come on to it,
we’ll get through it
furnished on pews at church for the bell
for those in the business
of avoiding hell
a prayer for vast,
wasteful riches
research and develop a needless
needle’s eye
and call it camel sized
to scadge a tad of marked time
then a renegade point one nine
in and out caused a firm, wide flummoxing…
i’ll be driving the laptop home
for christmas this year
sat 27 – now is the time
i’m a basic bitch consumer
i just wanna be humoured
eat this pish
it’s a fancy foreign dish
while i appreciate expertise
i’m keener to fetishise
passionate beginnerism
call for a strong and stable new era
are the good souls ready
to forget forgiveness
and embrace the love
that burns old epochs down?
tue 30 – the redemptive final chorus
o wean in a manger,
your chocolate trough
it’s a preposterous amount but
somehow never enough
i have a theory
that love is pain
different but the same
Leave a Reply