there we are, stevie howling
like how can we be to the setting
son and a butterfly collector..

kidnap really, and put in a jar
so lovely dust falls away
in bitter recollection..

your tuned to lily(guest dj)..!
a dance of flailing true
from the beautiful 52s´..?!

after this voyeuristic lament
another beauty
we are all quite sane..

we have become
i will read an old one-
there is no hell..

ii

there is no hell
so we made one
such is man..

desparate dan
on a jag of boredom..
come, little soldier

eat up hamburger
mainstream stars
lonely land..

iii

as the keys fade into
thunder i have been told
to press a button..

(a word from our sponsers)
eat this ****
youll be alright-lily laughs..

a song to dead genius
nothing more sad
hearts breaking..

iv

(a reluctant admiration
always the sun
you could see we english

we were in our underpants
i thought that said alot
i was down the far end

with the naked hairy germans
in pain no shade
in the sun..)

v

eclectic can be rather
a pretention
but i thought we might go

classical-here is the man
nocturne on high
chopin..enjoy..

vi

back again-i read somewhere
he composed from his death bed
in them i find faith and love

and also a boy called johnny-
your listing to lily-submission..
you got real pretty teeth baby-

or so i heard before
the computer..to the leaving
of liverpool

the age of sail..
the clipper ship in full sail
*** ****** and the lash

as churchill once said
in a speech..now we have a break
for news traffic and weather

another..

i

EVERY WRITE IS A BRAND
new day-except without the caps
which is ok

i never know what i want
to say
lily eats her toast..

outside the thorn tresspass
she lost in reverie
slips her knight gown

and a glimse of her breast
very nice
and wraps her self warm again..

ii

like eve and marmite
sweet genesis..
the king will come

o
no, i never know what to say
like the stars
but usually  mix

the surreal with the mundane
myth not usually ****
but they exist

iii

books and music..
encroaches the thistle
she opens an epistle-

listen to this?!
the radio station wants me
to guest dj..?!

mm..mmm...mmmmm.
mmm,...mmmmmm...
m-no mention of money..

just select a list of your
favorite mmmmm..
and some relevant commentary..

read some of your poetry..
mm..mm..mm
as you will-yours in perpertuity,

steve..
ps..no effing swearing..lol..
what do you think..?

iv

when-tomorrow!?
that´s tomorrow!!
not much prep..

i´ll get ****** and be
spontaneous-never let me
down yet..

what is it-no publicity
is bad publicity..?!
mmmm..

i

lily looks up from a page
why do i feel guilt
when i have done nothing..

what is she reading?
in patagonia-
because you are..

by bruce chatwin-
like winnie the poo
and ******

ii

when they pull out
your finger nails your to say ow
not be clever..

witches were clever
or are..
freedom a little shack

by the ocean..
dinosaurs and great open spaces
sailing the albatross..

iii

a certain penguin with
comical name
send out the a team

they make a glittering home
and the rest follow..
they are monogamous

iv

until death..
both raise the chick
in turn

they are generous
they share
there is no blame..

generosity in a democracy
is important lily
says..

not only did we have our daily
milk but free school dinners
too-

(an optional..)
maybe it is the same today
somehow i don´t know..

now, is a strange concoction
of future and nostalgia
lily, i hear the contented suction

of straws from chilled milk
bottles which blue **** had pecked
and left jagged-

free milk provided by the state
which the children unfortunate
to go without breakfast enjoyed and

had two-which of course would
bankrupt the country today..
what with the price of state of the art jet

fighters..and to make resolutions
which is also tough-given up so many avenues
of pleasure already..

i

i have a recurring dream
it is infuriating
i thought it had gone
but it returns..

it is best not to dwell
on and on
that only makes it
return..

there are worse things
in the subconscious
dissolution and murdering
someone..

like waking from a
drunk with blood on
one´s hands..
no mind..

ii

i knew a dentist
who did the same
i suppose he is out

by now..
losing your guitar is
small potatoes..

when i was young
well about 25
i read war and peace

i was half way through
war
when this guy goes

you know-give me something
to read
i am dying( i had nothing)

here..so i give him
peace-and amid oaths of
return i never saw him again..

ii

i tell a lie
sitting in a dusty cafe
in piraeus

he came out the rainy
day and we greeted like
old friends..

the sea rustled and cried..
he had got married
and now her brothers

were after him..
and then
we knocked into each other

in the red light district
of amsterdamn
we never seemed to change..