i

what were you doing between
a lion and a camel
just passing time
i had set off for italy..

i worked for some irish
on the black stuff-swinging a
pick..and then i went to
berlin..

ii

thirty years ago lily
where has the time gone
i feel like a different person
soon be ninety..

i feel younger now
then when i was twenty though
then i was all pain
and disdain..

we like to laugh
though it is indescribably
sad..

you don´t see the joke?
me..?
that´s it!

ii

at a boot sale i got
a little book of laughter
on the cover

a group of pentioners play
a game of stretch over assorted
colour-

one man cries cheat
as a woman uses her *******
as they reach the floor.

iii

humour differentiates us
from fauna
so they say..

on the whole, i´d rather
be-a bat or a giraffe
or a lion..

iv

one time lily
i was between a lion and
a camel..

i got to know them
quite well
surprising enough

they were quite happy
they seem to say
how awful it was in the jungle..

i))

a delayed write about a
monster-how often have you heard
it-?
we create our own monsters..

like we dig up graves by night
and by day fit
ill-assorted brains into
huge bodies...!?

but there is the lonely laughter
there is a corner
a brother,a sister
a mother, a father

my friend igor..
a creator
a destroyer
an idea

a notion
an obsession
complexion-
a god likened

ii

and around the mountain
come the locals
torches and cries..!-

once we have done
never to be undone!
rises the sun..

ketchup as in the
blood
some mojo sealed
impossible and red

from a negative to a
could-
more felt
less angst-be

possibly..
i mean if i tried
god would love me..
why not

from tepid to hot
from to too
from two
to trot

so donne my wings
and cloud
be proud-
be a part

have a heart
swoon above
find some sort of
love..

i?

how she changed from death,
there must have been a moment,
illusive as jam on toast..

there must have been a breath,
what they call an epiphany,
maybe..

she said long time dead!?
not so much left
what alternative..?

ii

what is better then why
it is a beginning-
the aroma of fresh java!

what next?
a jump into the unknown
eggs benedict..

life
and ketchup
the only way..

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..

i

how would you interpret it?
our lives fall apart
through fire or tedium
and the whispering rodent?

that is wisdom..
the answer in our hearts..
love-chips with everything-
forever reoccurring..

ii

dreams are wild-
one day we might record
them..

and then understand
ourselves-
our brains

are unknown
we use ten per cent
then

how can we understand
the other 90..?
lily

iii

turns a page..
bit of a catch 22
i should say..

but they would rather
search space for hardly
nothing..

still,it gives them something to-
do-
we shall all die of bordom

don´t you worry..
what is she reading?
when i was young-

iv

we wrote with pens
of wood
straws of sublime

shadow of victoria
prison or school
window

the playground or
bomb-site
of the ******

we ran around
fighting and trying
to kiss each other..

i

so,they walk home
under the loving stars
together and alone
they go-b flat-la..

happy-come!
in time of wars
when hope is done-
for..

ii

over one flaky bridge
past sundry traffic
cones
they hear a swish..


they hold hands
and look up
a silence so palpable..
grumps says

shall we get some chips?
past the garbage truck
happy you stay here
with edna..

what would you like?
a home and family
how many kids?
...and plenty vinegar..

i

she put a flower
behind her ear
-pretty as edna

gb, makes a mental note..
this  moment-preserved..
he will write later:

we walked home together,
the stars mere pretenders-
thiefs with chips,
to edna,
with a flower behind her ear..

ii

ernie, cries bravo!
and performs something
vaguely iberian-

and happy joins in-!
why humans dance?
(so entitled..)

he re-enacts a killing
this moment of existance
the beauty of fire and night

the love of god
the shadow of light
the rising sun..

iii

then,he is collared by
lugubrious ***
(the doorman)

and finds himself
outside
(have we not been there?)

shamed once again but
happy
they begin..

iv

their walk home
beneath the stars
to surrender

free as the birdies
as the breeze
past and the future..

i


introductions can be
awkward-i just fall
supine-

that is backward-happy
to have my belly
scratched..

i want a drink and some-
thing to eat..
men,says edna,

are all alike..
the sun in the dust
is yellow, pink and green..

ii

the place is filled
and dreaming
can it be the same-

johnny crash gets his
order in,
any requests?

fat to thin,
old to young,
ernie wants, the end,

(by the doors)
blown, are the nails
of bordom..

iii

the silver tray will
flash like flowers in
the spectral dawn..

all are welcome!
(less the names of
the banned..

some minor discretion-
a word..
a land of chance..

where the music to
ought may happen
flies on fifths and

discordant ninths..
looks askance-me?
lotus eaters..o..!)

iv

buy a flower?
and put behind your ear,
edna

for we smile and
lean closer
saturday night

we shall dance
and laugh
the world our oyster..

i

to give it a full name
all our yesterdays
(or the future game..)

all the same-lugubrious
or happy-
he runs past ernie!

but stops enthralled
young again-a man in
a  hat

of the beige brigade
with the aid of dance
tells a story..

ii

when i was young
i danced alone and now
i dance alone-

the bit between was
fun
an eternity gone

all too soon-
i was a stone
i was a cross

i was water..but
look close do you see
regret?

do you see hate?
(happy leans out..)
wags his tail..

i have lived..
slowly,slowly,
he does the splits..

arms akimbo
defiant and proud
o crescendo...!

i

to wait patiently
to construct a moment..
to play a full note

beauty and faith..
a heavy load
take´s courage..

heaven in hell
and vice-versa
to wait at a door

ii

for a yes or no
to be paid
for an echo..

a coin tossed into
a well
or just the plain boredom..

to be terse
in a verse
in a poem..

or just bite the paintwork
or sin
(later regret-)

iii

to be lugubrious
or happy
to howl in

a nonchalent
unaffected by it all
kind of a style..

iv

hello?!happy!
what are you doing here?
waiting for you-!

and through..
into what..
that is closed..

i)

well..down at the
pickled, it is quite still,
(after happy hour some tears, perhaps..)

johnny crash, and the sad rehearse,
you aint nothing but a hound dog!
ernie,lone star, on the dance-floor

with a move reminiscent of
travolta
threatens to throw a hip..

ii)

a god points at a silver star-
edna and gb take their drinks to
a quiet corner..

do you remember..?!some
laughter..two heads close but
not too close

silhouettes
like shy flowers..
time´s illusionary petals

iii)

fall away..
well, quite a long time ago..
(but behind and in the window

happy stands-like
hal in the lip-reading scene
of 2001..)

iv

*** the doorman approaching
with his raffle-tickets
but they seem like

they have won
a cruise to a sunny horizon
do you guys need refreshing?

no,we are fine-not a cloud,
johnny sings of a thing called love
and even the sad are smiling..

iv

a happy ending..
he makes his way to the door
*** is solid-gone

happy waits patiently
sniffs his paw
he will go say, howdy..

i

ok..an intriguing title
for a slim volume-how
did it go-biographical-
neither question but wile-
a tune  that taunts the
periphery..
what you think happy..
(yes,i could get my teeth
into that)..i laid out your
cowboy-suit and gave your
boots a once over with the pledge..
(how many times..)your dinner is
in the micro...

ii

i sent a poem to the new yorker
once..
it was called, love hunger..

now in the mirror-i am joe buck
not much of a cowboy but...

i

the story so far:
grumpy boots-master
and happy his dog-servant

play out their roles..hapless,
before the karma of a blind universe..
saturday, and off to the soul doctor

and after?!an evening of western-
down at the pickled gherkin!
will grumpy find a friend?

will happy follow the dictates
of his nature
lost in the wild

of the primordial night
free of conscience and moral
turpitude?-(read on..)..

ii

q:so,how was the week
a:pretty much the same
q:were you busy-
a:same..made up a poem
q:about-?
a:a door,inspired by a dream..

iii

i dreamt about a door
was i in or out
was my life a jar
of doubt..

at the behest of an un-
caring universe
to fill a gap-a hinge-
a ***-to strange karma

iv

what does it mean
self explanatory themes..
your alienated and hesitant
you are not sure
if you are a door..

and if enterered?
a decision deferred-
what of the future?
what is in store?
just around the corner..

v

do you think of dying?
not so often
all the time or
middling-

i want you to write
a poem -
about death-
mean while..

vi

in the antechamber
happy chews the f out
of the carpet

boredom is worse
he thinks and stifles
a yawn..

when young
we were hip to jj-
the man
sipped tequila
while the med did
a thing..

i

would it not be crazy
if we found our own voice
instead of why
we cried because..

happy howls f death-
i am alive..!
grumpy is at the psychiatrist
in the antechamber..

ii

i feel life pointless,doc,
the days pass with relentless
monotony
(not a word i use

lightly)
i have forgot how to smile
the world is crumbling
my only friend is a dog..

iii

i write poetry
this is called a bump on a log-
that is me-useless person number
three-what i say why,
i cry no-i mean no...!

better then red-dead
yeah..do i know-no
but i pretend,
a conundrum-a rhetorical
nowt..

dread and anguish in
my head..
a blemish or less
tiny spot-worse, can
it be worse..yes..super in superfluous..

iv

what ever they pay it is
insuffice and he is out!
the window-past the
gambling dens

and pound shops
past the fast food outlets
past the charity shops
past the telephone

and computer emporium
stops to inspect his ***-
ok..on!
past the pickled gherkin..

lugubrious *** the doorman
smokes a woodbine-hello
hap?!-hi ***!
examines form...

where´s the man?
inspecting his thing-
people..four letters
hap-lost in time?


past some polystyrene
past a puddle
past a moment
past a chip shop

past the sky
past a now
past the cop-shop
past the moon too..

i

do you wonder what
your last words will be?
to para-phrase-oscar-
he said, it was either he

or the wallpaper..well,
we have no wall-paper-
i wish my view,though,
the blue sky and

ii

mediterranean..
and perhaps, why?
(it was my first-)
time is circular
not linear..

or perhaps your
mad blue eyes
what difference..?
because..

i remember you
miriam!
sitting in the angel?!
(what your ambition..?!)

i see you from the corner
of my elgood´s eyes..
making me nervous,
waiting for me to speak,

we could still be their
now..
shrugging and giving up..
walking away..