i know,
they are waiting for me
to die..

patience, lily,
(she has a touch of
the paranoias..)

life passes in the
twinkling of an
eye..

trust in that..love
and ask not why
beauty and

acceptance
sure
10=10..!

ii

postumous is for
the possums
um-

when she dies
her work will be
wisdom-

beyond silver and
gold..
words like timeless

will be bandied
stories told
some of us

begin at the end
the very last
or penultimate

grain
to fall
..

iii

meanwhile life
is hard
a mean card

you hear the one
about the broken heart
and the

lost dirge-
eternal love sworn
some tooting words

fitted up like a acorn
some hallow accord
just to pass the hours

and then the dawns
sacrifcede
i thought different

but the truth at last
some grass
soon be dead

and then no more
cheating
and names

no more giraffes
that laugh and
wait

no more silly ways
10 will indeed equal 10
once again..

i like to tell of
my life
no-one has to
listen
i rather they
did nt..
but
soon enough
i won´t remember
a **** thing
the future (if one
can call it)
brief and that will
leave only
the moment..

i met a man of the circus
you could here it
his fathers-
clowns and light-


magic and applause..
he said won´t you play-
his handle-bars!?
(am i a charity..)

listen-la´s-give it away
for love or if you have to eat
and god bless the fray..
once, i knew an honest

man..say,

ii

lily,you would think,
strange, had lost it´s
currency

in this day and age..
-language is meaningless
soon,we will just babble..

on screens
scream and howl
like camera caged

owls-our feathers
terminally ruffled
of  outrage..

iii

(sounds familliar..)
it is not the one´s
with purple hair

but  hearts pierced
with nothing
to look out for-

they care for nada
(not even money)
and certainy not

for the stars
they really don´t want it
or just a reasonable part..

now we welcome a local poetess
i hope she ll forgive the generic
distinction
can ´t be too careful in these pc
times-a local girl cometo read
and discuss her work and her take on
things in general-i will not say
literally but but lily..!welcome'!

lily-thankyou?!
i don t think it matters if
i am a man or woman-

so have you always been
interested in words and poetry?

no,i spoke my first word early
but it became a mantra in
which silence became music
music and silence became me
the universe is a note-b-flat maybe..

your earliest memory

strange **** about rats but also
a study by fernando sor
used as an introduction to
tales of the riverbank
stretching worms
squeezing **** in my diapers-an
artists relation to his/her **** is
very important..picking up dust-
normal rights of passage..

and you became interested in poetry-when?

when i was about fifty-

quite an hiatus-what made you
write-

i felt like a time had come
like when i stopped drinking
home..i finally had something to say
an end a beginning..

now some words from those who pay
don t go away!



in the studio today is lily-
and tombola at the legion
and a buffet-so why? poetry?

-why do we create
it is partly memory
or fate

we celebrate our existence
and question that
and this

hate or empathy
for purists style
or beauty

entertainment!
money!
only joking!-

and how do you begin..?

motion
like i chop an onion
that leads to something

to the pan
and spaces that fry
in-between-

i might get an idea
the computer
something bothering

or disturbing
or amusing
like a keyboard

felicitates
clarity
i am lefthanded

for example and
wicked connotations
ensue

but my hand
like a spider and all
the angels

on the side of right
something surreal
or real..

ok..quite a broad church
then..?

who do you admire?

that is a question-!?
i like de la mare
edward lear
leonard cohen
ian dury-

a musician?

yes-well-i could nt
write without music
and so brave
a man-

well that leads us on
to a tune gil scot heron and
angel dust..
be back soon..!

in days of yore
they swore
a witch would metamorphosis
into hedgehogs-
that crept about stealing
and spying
beady black eyed and
prickly-
you snigger, lily?

o absurd!
absurd is the word
man was god and nature
was cursed-
(the simple blackbird
the familiar to nefarious
end..

but there is a bird
that has followed
and will not quit
what it wants-)
and left-handed
cats,bats,rats-
all suspect..
third *******..

do you wonder, paul,
what beliefs
dear
will prove equally specious
in the future..?

an eloquent and interesting
question
-violence
ever solved anything-
that comes to mind
that the power of mind
is limiting..
natures cure limited
like wise the imagination
like wisdom
as love
love is not the answer..
peach cobbler..

indecision and doubt
dogs of creation
what god felt
keeps us living-

pray we never find out..
love can be dissapointing
a bad card dealt
devastation..

indeed,we would all be
insane if it were not for
creation..

the destruction of kali?!
-the imagination of harbour´s
safe haven..

i

in the bath
we laugh..read on!-
what is that tapping?

¨´tis some visitor¨ i muttered
¨tapping at my chamber door-
only this and nothing more..!¨

what is it?
poe..
no-

you like poe?
no, what-
no-?

be ye iconclast?!
no, what is that noise?
like a forrest burning..

o that is poe!!
(small feline
he want´s in-

very possesive..o..
come in, poe?!
come on..!!?

ii

hello poe!!
hello my darlin!
ah, he does judge me

so!?..no,
i like hop-frog,
the tell-tale heart,
and the erm black cat..

in the bath
we are sad..now..
long ago

we wore black
dusty of toe
purple of nose..

the sun was so hot
and love too..
how the breeze blew..!

o wine was sweet!
blue was blue
spaghetti, a time

of excitement-
never wanted for anything
when we were young..

ii

will you wash my back?
come here poe darling
you have suds on your whiskers

writing in a spontaneous
fashion
wonders who i am..

in the kitchen i was a
pearl diver-
(dish washer)

all but invisible
but in good company-
george orwell etc

there was lower-
the temporary
kitchen porter

(dish washer)
or kp..
did nt they make

nuts?
yeah..that was us-
wash dishes for eight

hours
see how you feel
there were free meals

and kitchen drama
the chef liked guinness
they stole my boots..

i put an e string on an old
guitar yesterday
we used words like stretch
and fray..

and then the ****** sky
turned orange
and that is one of the words
that nothing rhymes

with..and thats alright
for tomorrow
there is free paella!
ola..!

i remember them
the builders and the
farmers..
in the sweat kitchen
(the value of a dollar)
they were poor and
they were lonely
the bank was closed..

there was experience!
in the mountains
in the olives
three generations
picking up the nets-
look ma! on top of the
world!
lol..

in the tomatoes
shelter from the spring
blast
plastic
dinner with the family-cool
generosity-children and goats
chickens..the wine..
farm house fair..

the builders-no,
i can´t go there but
here were things that money
just could nt buy-
i felt young
a special time
the sea and sky
lord..

is boredom a modern malaise
asks lily painting her toes
or the privilege of kings and queens

from days of yore..
expectation thwarted-
am i bored and don´t know it..

bored again-is it a
tunnel to be traversed
for some a curse

and others unknown
what bores you
quite interests me..

your passion
my yawn
blow on these..

ii

feet
eg..
an animal

can be..
some indeed
choose rather to die..