Stretch out infinite,
Harsh Caledonian coast
Now eat me alive

like a deer drinking from a stream
in the clearing
I am clearing
time away
I am the wolf
amongst women
I am a jar
half full
I am residue
on the sink edge
dusty, smudged
I watch people on trams
I watch people on buses
I don't smile
I watch the deer drinking
I play with my hair
I stare
I am the wolf
from afar
I am
I am waiting
for the clearing to wilt
and stream to dry up
I watch the deer
I am

the snail shells lie empty
they dried up and burnt
on the longest day
while limestone bathing lovers
chipped by fleshy hands
with great intention
don’t miss slimy snails

they are still in embrace
in stony waves
stopped and gazing
the light empties even
on the longest day
lovers and shells alike
eventually take storms
on their cheeks

you told me once
that

i'll build a home
with these words


maybe one day we can live here

tonight while i sleep
shadows will peel from lampposts
and party long
finally free :-)

One leg up
hand resting
I'm scribbling ideas
to help me fall asleep.
I like tall buildings
and lots of concrete

One leg up
while walking in the city
still
faces in weird spaces
move
my gait, not that pretty
look!
four pugs on a chain
city cerberus
concrete keeper
perpetual eater
grim reaper
shh

One leg up
on a concrete world
that idea spilled
like a cup
coffee
on the floor
my mind
sleep

hovis in the air
liminal criminal
on the loose
and it's no use
to peruse
this boundary
floundering
and meandering
slant rhyming
is not cool
it's actually
pretty liminal
effort? minimal
and is that so criminal?

comfort- to be mad
an insensitive speculation
but better perhaps
than the disgusting clarity
of self-imposed sanity

pulling leaves off trees
we drudge on

wor(l)ds crashing
shards of warnings
lost in the gust
split second split sky
hug of thunder
if there's anything
worthy of worship
it's the raw brutality
of a tempest
nature's dualism:
chaos and bedlam
surrounding an eye of calm
yes, now my train of thought
is snatched by the storm
empty-handed, empty-minded
brilliant from within

To note this moment in time
Is to admit there is little time
To rest and be still
To write silly feelings
Track the change that keeps
Happening and unhappening
Thread the memory of past and future
Real and unreal
What is time but
Opposite of a thing

I have been so busy
I get energy from socialising
I feel full and capable
But I lose myself if I don't make a slot
A shell of time on my own
To pause
Remember this

Every 5 or 10 minutes,
The colour of the world will turn,
Things you thought you grasped and knew
Grow feet so big that even you
Could admit nothing is as it seems
Because they run away, they do
And hide in rainbow-coloured rabbit holes

The tea goes cold
You left it out too long
You forgot again, but not for the taste
Of ginger and metallic water stays
On tips of tongues and in dream states

There's always something on my mind
And just when I thought I got it down
The skin tips, the bowl dips
And in I go, head first
Not afraid this time
Because not knowing
Forgetting
Is OK with time.
When your thoughts wear clown shoes.
So they can run better.
That's OK too.

return to solitude
where as a child you stared at green grey floor tiles
for so long that they started turning into portals of glass
the edges of the world shimmery and in those void spaces
perhaps you could see wild dogs
roaming the hard shoulders of highways

big snarly things in the city, they're free
i picture they carry all pain and woe
in baskets hanging off ridged backs
it makes me feel better

to return to solitude
carry away and cocoon in this
lonely very beautiful place

full of ice sheets and breeze-blocks and bewildered people and dogs
all traipsing the hard shoulders of highways, together

thinking about those grey green tiles back home
and also about
everyone who turned around
and didn't come back to land

Green tentacles, palm up,
Audibly ******* in sun rays
Round corners, not a single edge in sight
These eye-less beings have more than one shade
Algae-like, in hot nitrogen
Welcoming and rich in chlorophyll
Chloroform, intoxicated
In the face of these blemished beings
They’re flanked by lavender stems
Faces, yes, veiny and real
Upset vine leaves, corroded by rusty attacks
Translucent at the edge, reaching reaching
And in that negative space,
Quiet bees and buzzers, also *******
Here is life, not so still

I want to wake up
In the morning and look out
Dramatically, good posture
Towards the horizon of the day
Chest out arms akimbo
Stretch a light ray
Pull some time….

As 500 serpents curl up to sleep
A crack rips through the entirety of a whole foods shop
One day it’ll make sense
The folding of time
Sequences and morsels of little images
Or memories or whatever
Collective consciousness of a great catastrophe
The glimpses we get that
Come crashing in
The rip within
When you tread on the spongey moss ground
Feels like a fall from a great height
It will be just as exhilarating
But crystal clear
Like a diamond funnel,
Refracting to a point of sharp perfection.

There was a glimmering space
between me and every word unsaid
A thousand breaths for a
thousand thoughts void

I was taken to a new planet
a hollow matter, no air
I wanted to fill it and **** it
then resurrect and face
My sad alien fate

you ever spend days
on nothing at all?
imagine:

im in a wildly large puddle
large as life
but it dont make sense
i dont know this puddle
i dont know this man
his hand dont fit in my own hand
mine is wet and his is dry
inside my head he wants to pry

******* man
this nothing's mine
crawl into your own dreamworld
i screech, spit, kick, and then recline