I see that big cat food has put out a product recall
it's the modern age
Society will fall
If we allow our pets
To fall into malaise
Of non exposure
Like our peanut disgrace
Once you start down that path
The problem will grow and not shrink
It all written there in the Bible I think
Moses beseeched the lord give my people strength
To cross the dessert and bolster their health
God said cast thy staff down
It turn into a serpent
M took fright
Johviah bade him
Take it by the tail
A staff once again
Took it up
Turned and strode down the hill
Showed the chosen the trick
Then they were all in
For good or for ill.

Things fall off
Cos things get loose
I've lost my screwdriver
I know that's no excuse
You can feel the vibration
Before you hear the sound
Once the bolt hits the floor it can never be found.
Rattling
Shattering
You stupid *******.

To my drunken friend in Bristol
He's not from there
He just is there quite a lot
It's a good place to dash off
His kindly ****** up plots
To aid charity
And bonhomie
Inspiring tired artists
To create stories
Dripping with catharsis
That only comes
From real love.

I used to buy my Herbert
Off of
Tommy Steveo
A formidable
Sharp streetwise old hippy
Didn't take any or give no *****
But he wouldn't stiff you or take no ****
A beautiful brash soul
Always driven by reason
He had a memory
I could barely believe
Knew facts of which I could not conceive
From every match
That the reds ever played
Answer never delayed
Instantly dragged out into the smoke
He saw Buddy Holly at the Philharmonic
He had a light for a young McCartneys Chronic
And he had the best ****.

My mother tells me from an early age
I always loved old movies
I'd scoot my nappied **** across the carpet
Causing sparks
To see film noir intriguey(sic)
Kind hearts and coronets
Jimmy Cagney
The scarlet pimpernel
The red shoes and her descent into hell
On late Saturday afternoon.

Who knows what went where
And indeed
Why anyone
Should care
But then again
Look over there
While I remove
Myself from here.

Slice your potatoes
So thick
They can take on
The oil
Salt
And fat
The nature of which
They need to be serious
So no one calls them a ****
Boil for a bit
And then on to the roasteries
Everyone likes the edges
Of their
Spuds
crispery

It seems a burden
Such a weight
That
Is only you
Why did you spit
On the things
That made you
Now proved
Is it because
Now you know Better
Despite
Your
Weird
Helplessness
That
You
Plunge
Whole hearted
Into
That place

They eat well
For awhile
But they always
Get put down.

Poets
Philosophers
And
Theoretical physicists
Pretend
They're
Up
To something.

To dance
And sing
In a crowd
That's not
Havin it
To not be
Hushed
By
The
Chill
They
Themselves
Are guilty
Of the same
At some point
They
Remember
The thrill
Then court
The laughs
From
Some
Random
Nutters
If that
Don't work
Pull
Sharp
Down
The shutters.

I thought I was clever
But then I looked it up
It means almost
But not entirely
The opposite
Of what I was trying to convey
Or just a word a bit like it
Mycelium mitocondria
Way hey!
So spew forth
Like Del Boy
Ringo
Myself
Or
Tony Soprano
You got the feel
And the rhythm right
And that is half the battle.

When they state
You can't see the wood
For the trees
Do they mean
What they're made from
Or where they live?
Makes a bit of
A difference
To the response you give
Is it covered it bark?
Or lost in the crowd?

We went down to London
We went on the train
And stared out in wonder
At cold hearted distain
Adrift in the maelstrom
They all seemed so calm
But to dwell in the big smoke
Just seemed like self harm
So we aimed ourselves north
And we sat in the pool
We let its sweet waters
Rinse fix and cool
Now we'll stay here forever
And you'll have my heart
They'd need a mighty mongol horde
Just to keep us apart.

God said to Abraham
**** me a son
Abe said
Ah c'mon boss
Not this again!

Humanity's an improbably steep
And multidimensional hill
To accommodate
All routes
A holy mountain
If you will
Though wether roped
Or solo it's a free for all
To
Scale
Freeze
Dangle
Or fall

But there's room up there still
If you fancy a climb
Cos most of us
Are sunbathing
In meadows sublime
Through opera glasses
Peering up transfixed
I see
Tiny dark figures hanging in time

I'm tipsy on thin air
And feeling unkind.

I've fallen asleep
At the back of the class.

Everything gets in eventually
Unless you have a supernatural defence
Wether it's the ants or the water
Constant baulwalking makes sense
Sealent shrinks
Rubber perishes
Nowt is water tight
Though when your young you don't think so
Why should you give a *****?
The citadel once proud
In the round
With its bitter moat
Now tumbledown
Half brought to ground
Denuded mortar
All she wrote.

My grandad lasted
Till 96
My auld fellah
Tapped out
At 74
Following that
Timeline
I should have died
Three years ago
Beat the house already
Oh what joy!

Measure your life in tournaments
Month long gorges
On the ball
It helps you
To quantify
And organise
The thoughts
And memories
Of it all
That make up
Some bits o your life
Comparative by recall
The moments of high drama
That held you fast enthralled.

The mark of your smartness
I failed of course
It meant the school
You got sent to
From central casting
Divorced
There's probably somat similar
In this modern age
But I've got no kids
So I cannot engage
On the way we educate
And who goes where
So I shrug to my fellow dummies
You'll  be fine
Ignore the *******
I'll see you over there.

If you could stand
On the spot
Where you now sit
From the time that it formed
Till it didn't exist
From rock
To field
To lane
To home
Built and rebuilt over
Like
A temple of old
Could you feel
Those that have dwelled there
No matter how fleeting
All the joy and the pain
Every embrace and beating
Each one slowed down
So poignancy crushing
Then seen as
A speed run
To infinity rushing
What would you take
From the eternal lesson
Either
G*d
Or the Universe
With your head surely  messing.

A follow up
Morrissey asked
An indeterminate amount of time
After he posed
His previous question.

They reckon they might have found the ninth planet
After mulling two readings
A quarter century apart
They knocked down the likely influences
From about twenty to they think just one
Not quite a fine art

An ice giant
So they say
Rough five times our girth
Maybe between
Two hundred
To a thousand times
Further away
Than Our Sun
To this good Earth

It excites the boffins
Brings cosmology alive
As it drags those
Extreme Neptunian trans types
Out on a whacky ride.

Youth is wasted on the young
Life on the living
Always imparted by the old
And ghosts unforgiving
Quantify waste
You smunt!
The arch criticism
Of the lacking
What was it?
Did your time run out
Just as you was packing?

David Eugene Edwards
Said his banjo was
A work instrument for God
That's some holy confidence
Yet it doesn't seem that odd.

The worlds largest iceberg
Is on the move again
Apparently wedged
Somewhere for decades
At last it has broke free
It's headed
Directly to
South Georgia
Where the penguins
Freely lark
They got a judgement coming
And it's about
******* time.

These ******* aren't fooling me,
I'm gonna start calling Marathons Snickers!

When Loudons in a mood
There's just nobody like him
Seems he could spit regret and bile
Ad infinitum
Found one of his CDs
At the back of the shelf
Still had its cellophane jacket on
A lot of dust it's repelled
It's one of them
My father left to me
Without knowing
Turned the case over in my hands
Tiny aftershock
Sweetly glowing
Seems almost a shame
To take its thin coat off
But it won't feel the benefit
When it's time to shuffle south.

What is it your after?
When your just sitting there
Or just sitting there
And just ******* there
I've heard that's how some work it out

When working out
On the treadmill
Or in the ****** gym
The words for those
come buzzing
To the ear within

In a rowing boat
With a fishing rod
On a foreign beach
Half cut
After bumping
Into an old lover
The once open doors
Now firmly shut
And locked
And bolted
And barred

So what is it you're after
When you're just sitting there?
To obliterate a few minutes ?
Closer to not being there.

Wonder round the back
Have a look
What you think we lack?
Years of lacklustre
Maintainence
Leave
Crumbling
Ramparts
Open
To
Attack.

Crook and flail
Guide and whip
The ancients
More up front
With it
Move the herd
To greener pastures
Or whip em hard
To avoid disaster
Some saw the flail
Symbolic
Of fertile land
Whatever you say
We quite understand.

There was
Just
The three
Of us.

The darkest place
In the universe
Where
The demons push on the gate
Sometimes they get past security
Oft sooner than late
And make a break
For humanity
It's like a drug for them
To **** out
And
Binge upon
The Pandemonium
Once it was their
Home town
The capital of their land
But it atomised
And ****** off
When Hades got out of hand
so now it's a border run
Like the Irish
For cheaper petrol
If the boss catches em
There will be Hell to pay
Lately he is so temperamental.

Can one sing the blues
Without drinking
The *****?
It seems to be
A progenitor
Driven stylus
To **** and moan
About what you become
Seems like a pissheads
Showy analysis

A drunk goes into a chippy and says
"I'll have a portion o chips and a steak and kidely pie."
The worker says
"You mean steak and kidney pie don't you?"
The lush replies
" That's what I said ****** I ?"

Have you looked at yourself
In the mirror lately?
John Berger said you should do it daily
To get a fix on what your becoming
Incremental slide or climb
Isolate from the thrumming
The buzz
The fuzz
The pulsating drone
The distraction
Reminds me of that Orbital tune
With vocals by Oppenheimer himself
Muses on present chronography
And what it means for thee and me
Advises time lapse
Put the clock upon the shelf.

We all die alone
Unless someone dies with you
The path that you travel is always within you
So we all **** and moan bout what life has turned into
We all die alone.

How would one do that
And why would you do it
Surely you'd get to the point
And then spew it
To press a button
And many people
Would be liquidised
The nature of connection
Would deffo de-emphasise
But of course not
What are you thinking
They grew up with bombs
And simple ******
Deaths the drink
They've been drinking.

They pulled up
The alabaster floor
And sold it to the Greeks
So finely levelled
Perfect
For bas relief
The British later
Swept them off to London
Along with
Other purloined stones
Rose granite
And
Corundum
I hope they get em back
The return I applaud
Of course then
They'll  have to
Wipe em clean
And swiftly relay the floor.

The Arabs
Talk of camel philosophy
If you stand in front of him
He cannot kick you
Stand behind
He cannot bite
Pretty telling
These days
Where does one stand
To avoid this *****?

You know when you need a ****
But just cannot release?
Cos self containment
Is something
That will not desist
Then don't think of your bladder
Think of the abyss
Then there will no need
To move your
Photons
To this.

I'm on the waiting list
For surgery
The gimpiness
From hip
To knee
I've got a serious
Physical defect
For all it's plain
To see
Them *******
At the actors studio
Will be lining up
To play me.

The buzz of the bite
The cinch of the choke
The Ah ******* and rolled eyes
After the punchline is spoke
The kindness of strangers
Abused and never retuned
The double ended candle
Through the night which is burned
The rub of the green
Takes you into the red
How the sausage is made
Is how your family gets fed
To refuse the mob
That's how your flag gets unfurled
So shines a good deed in a ******* weary world.

Baldy cat gets on a bus
The drivers says
"Where's yer fare?"

My auld man
Saw a ghost when he was alive
In England's most haunted pub
Strangely enough
He swore he wasn't lying
Or that he was half cut
The ***** doesn't work that way
Unless at the extreme edge
Not in the middle of the day
When asked what the spectre looked like
He said "Just some normal fella."
He liked a joke Jimmy did
But in his voice there was a tremor
And a tone not oft heard from him
in point of fact not ever
His mates started calling him The Exorcist
A double meaning both were clear
For he'd visit you in the evening
And make your spirits disappear.

Just enough arseholes
To keep things interesting
Yin pushes yang
You know
That kind of thing
Like the outer spinning arms
Of a spiral galaxy
They are on all edges
Seeking calamity.

The death's head dagger
Your grandad
Took off of
That dead ****
The scooter
From the chase
Of Diana's paparazzi
That banner that read
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED
When George W
Landed that fighter
On that warship
In the Persian gulf
Good luck
Selling that stuff.

I'm nobody's dog
But there's this family
Who feed me.

Stephin Merrit said
Every day in every way
I'm getting worse and worse
That must have been said before
Simple ******* in reverse
A fine counterpoint to Emile Coue's
Daft pronouncements
The late nineteenth century's
Proto Noel Edmonds.