most people around here
take democracy for
granted they vote for the fascist  ..

last time I wrote a poem that
was
any good was on the late lamented
deep underground poetry site about an elderly woman on the
bus who offered me a boiled
sweet,
I thought,
but no, thanks     ..

we brush against each
other
than that there is
nothing  ..

wanted
to cry
but there’s people looking

worse off
than I

lived in lewisham for a while
it was alright  
but then she grew bored and I grew
bored with her growing bored
and staying out all night
and south east london ain’t the end of the
world

alas
a loss
unless
undressed
the poor old
chap was loved
I guess
her curls
in swirls
around his chest       ..

my wife gets annoyed
I don’t know why
but best just apologise

that you keep on giving me
your opinion suggests you don’t want
it, either

want to
play
by myself
today

we rented a room
so cold we went to bed
with our clothes on,
but not for long

is the mousetrap still running
at the theatre, is there a donkey sanctuary
in st pauls
is there still the thames, the thames!
is this then how poetry
goes

glad I never met george orwell
since he’d have despised me for
being a weak liberal and well
yeah he’d have been about right

people find me cold,
which is also
how they leave me

only writing because
like bukowski said
only if you have to
will it be any good

wanted to knock on his door
and ask him to come out to play
but what if his dad answered
and what if he said, oh ok  ..

sitting at a pavement table
   of a turkish café
  near the gare de l’est

feel myself hunch
  like a dishevelled pigeon
over lunch, the waiter

asks for our order,
     naturally in french
and I ask “parlez vous anglais?”

     he enquires if we’re dutch,
               or quite possibly deutsch    ..
guess it doesn’t matter much

don’t like restaurants
are full of people
who could have stayed
at home and cooked

when I was a kid I got a sixpence
a week for
pocket money, plus the beano
every
saturday
and then, suddenly, they
brought in decimalisation
and a sixpence no longer existed,
and I’ve worried about
money
ever since   ..

I’m drunk
feel your

contempt
so not

quite drunk
enough     ..

used to think I’d like
to get to know you,
but I don’t, anymore

your underwears me down
with it’s expectation of
fulfilment, but I’m just not in the mood
right now I’m reading

people often say “less”
when they mean “fewer” -
it’s not important, I
guess, it’s just grammar    ..

jumps out of bed
what have you done
  with my ******* she says
I’m late for work
  
they’re on the floor
  next to my socks
if I recall aright
     last night  ..

why call murderers butchers,
    when we get our lamb chops
from the butchers, and very nice they are, too
    few, those old shops   ..

she said I wonder
what you look like
without your glasses

he said I wonder
what you look like
without my glasses    ..

they say a time machine wouldn’t
be possible
but that’s *******
I’ve got a clock

she knew it was over
he hadn’t been home for days
why don’t you go home
she says   ..

dylan thomas died from the drink
but that’s not what you think
when you read his poems you think of caitlin,
swansea and soho and yeah, ok, pubs  ..