i and ii etc

mandible, i like
some words just
fiddle in the  brain

like too much mead-
a stranger in from the cold-
a penny a pint..

ii

(just so someone is
beautiful
means not i want

to put my
appendage in
their orifice..)

iii

two more words that
resonate like lover´s
first glance..

-their beauty may bore
them like a closing time
on a saturday..

iv

are you going to write
a poem, lily..?
i don´t know..

i have to clear my
mind-i am bogged
in the raw..

i

i have my mother to thank-
we stood in the back yard
and watched the sky
for hours and hours-

did n´t know a constellation
from a plate of chips..
in this i feel i am not
alone..

ii

what about ants?
i like watching them too
she says

do you think they are
all the same
or, is their wiseman

and seer..amid their
number-is their one alone
who knows oblivion..

spurns popular culture
and says-love is all,children
love is all-mandible..(word)..

iii

i see you found your sensemilla
it was under the chair
sometimes things in plain

view are best hidden..
like love you mean?
mandible..

lily nods and says
birds are alright but
what of snakes..
i had forgot

till a star reminded me-
i was bitten by one-it
was scuttling past and i
gave it assistance

putting him somewhere safe
(away from the concrete
and heat..)
i grabbed his tail and he

spun round and sunk his
fangs into my hand..
i admonished him gently
and gently prised his jaws

apart..what a delicate beauty
the skull possessed,then, put him
in the weeds and he sped off
without a backward glance..

ii

poetry magazines might
like that..
or is there a club..

i prefer bens to be
honest
or one of teds..

i woke this morning lily
amid scenes that were :
in a bar a man with an annoying
index finger and complaints
about the fare..

i went outside followed
by the troublesome digit
only to be confronted
by a curious scene:

a donkey had a fox by
the scruff of the neck
and a large animal could
have been a moose..

seized the donkey and then
thankfully, i woke up..
what do you think it means?
she says most dreams mean nothing

ii

but with out them-we go
insane..it was confusing
but induced well-being..

or perhaps there are deep
freudian connotations
lost in some detail..

iii

we sit in the garden
dreaming
insects are beaming

like aliens-the colours
are  the first time
we close our eyes..

from the oven, aromas,
sweet as wine
spaced like bill and ben

we sing along to van..
pickled by the sun
over our land

old and loved
albion..shining down
the birds sing..

iv

and what do they sing?
they sing it is all
written-

they know..us..
past and future..
small gods..