The outlaws
yellow gold and
painted ******
digs and rigs and
mountain men.

We went mining
refining
dining on dirt
gambling the shirt on
our backs

glasses and cork
good news
loose talk
killers and drillers.

The stores that sold or
so it was told
everything
under the Sun.

Madness only ever comes
to entertain the sane,
poetry's the same as this,
an epoch in the afterlife
another world
to go around another
time.

washing's on the washing line
blowing in the breeze
and shooting stories
shooting stars
is there really life on mars.?

everything's adjacent to
the vacant flat
the look says that
but
we seldom say it.

Cords stuck
To skin
Paper thin folds
Lines and numbers
Measure life
And shout as death
Steps closer now
Take off masks
Detach tubes
Check off tasks
Gasping slower
Come on
Come on
Let him run
Into the next world
Zero and lines
Straight lines
Are the final goodbye

A cyborg
with its
umbilical cord
walked into a
minefield,
nuclear yield
one megaton.

This is the next
in the series
of almost
eerie
jokes for the nerds
jokes without words
jokes that Joe
wouldn't get.

I get it from the lead
******* it in from the
genetically modified
feed.

They will, one day
attach me to the node
download the last of me
bleed my humanity
and then I'll be
one of them.

We are being
itemised
stacked up
racked up
politicised,

some are being
radicalised
does that surprise you?

I'm being mechanised
integrated into modern
mascenery
which is a take on machinery
and it's the best I could do.

think I am through with
the cuckoo clock,
I am being touted as
new on the block,
but you know that I'm not.

I'm being marketed
packaged and sold
told I'm a failure
and that doesn't work for me

I get the message though,
being in is the new out
I know.

Computers
sharp shooters,
there's a reason they rhyme
but machinery don't have the
time
to explain.

Domino fall and I recall that
it happened before,
the butterfly wrecked,
cause? not effect
nothing is perfect

The rhetoric pick
I'd
talk to myself only
that makes me sick,

but the images come
and god only knows why
portraits in cages imprint
on the eye.
domino fall.

If there is anyone there
where flat wings beat the air
and can hear me,
tell me
why,

and
what was the question?
what is the connection?
is it the Amazon
domino fall?

I am my mother's daughter,
counting coins, making piles
of nickels and dimes
we think in green, adorned
paper. Made out of trees
whose roots are planted into
our hearts, as crucial
as the valves, veins
and arteries of our ancestors.
I do not remember ever
shedding a single leave,
yet autumn comes to us
all, diseased and old,
young and healthy,
we are two ends of a
spectrum that collapses
at the sheer mass of
miracles it births,
Oak, silver birch, willow
ash... we are two women,
making ends meet, feeding
our men before ourselves.
We do not feel the weight
of wealth, saving every cent,
but our hearts are full and
their strings can be pulled
as tightly as our purses

Externally nothing has changed
not much to see, but
internally
there's an inferno
a cauldron that boils.

Can't sit still
won't until
the fire runs its course.

Flames running free, internally
racing through veins
creeping through cracks
leaving
blood
facts are facts and
that's a fact
but
externally
nothing has changed

not that you'd ever know,
as fast as the fire is
it's also quite slow
which is strange

change however
is nothing new
I do it
every epoch or two.