These tariffs won't affect me
I never eat McDonalds
And I'm well sorted for
Depleted uranium ( previous regime).

Townes Van Zandt
Had electroshock therapy in his youth to deal with depression
A miss prognosis
Cos they just about wrecked him
120 volts is generally the dose
But it looks like they upped it
And so cooked his goose
Memory loss and despair
Followed him the rest o his days
It's really no wonder
His songs are so great.

That giant redwood you could drive your car through
The Buddhas of Bamiyan
The old man of the mountain too
Magnificent Palmyra
The docker's umbrella
Things of beauty
Sent off to landmark heaven
Wether
Time or vandals or poor public planning
They are all now gone
No more time they'll be spanning
As the recycle rate
Kicks on with new pace
Enjoy the things that you love
Before they're erased.

When the ***** is all gone
Is it worth sticking around?
No more liquid shield
Against the drone
Of the crowd
Sober
Joyful
Participation
Might be a stretch
As you sweat and you twitch and you puke and you retch
Like that night you collapsed into and slept in a hedge
Ah sweet memories.

You need something to ang
On to in ere
Stop you goin under
Can't buck the system
Mad to try
But you can
Lift the heart
With the occasional
Little victory.

How many moons are there?
Let me count the phases
No two faced duplicity
With this one
Always the same pockmarks displayed
She's got an extensive wardrobe though
A range of colours styles and cuts
Cycling through the fashion seasons
That creation did entrust
There seems more costume changes
Than when I was a kid
Maybe she's just got a better agent
Got to grips with this internet biz.

I have not been what I should
Nor done the things I clearly could
I did not try to grasp the nettle
Instead stared blank into the kettle
Which of course did not boil
Still water with no hint of roil
I was and were and that still more
A passive shadow at your door
That would not knock
For fear of answer
A fool who would not take his chances
Deported to the moon
To forever sit
Infinitesimally
Buried
In
Regolith.

When you're in the subterranean chamber
That must be quite the feeling
In that tiny bubble
Just above the ceiling
grows a hillock
O the local limestone
A hundred foot above
Topped by more o the same
Blocks two and a haf million strong
Times approx two and a haf ton per block
Could be six million ton all told.

I'd **** me self.

The ancient Egyptian elites
Took an army o dolls to the west
Each had a role
To fulfill after the rest
And then life beyond
What was known
Each defined by a spell
The master never alone
Free to enjoy his boat o millions o years
While the Shabti labour
And absorb
All his cares.

A moth goes to see the foot doctor
He just flew right in.

Chiropodist said
What can do for you?
My winged friend
You know you're looking  pretty blue
What could I do for you?

Moth said
Doc I don't know where to begin
My life is framed by cowardice
Shame and sin
I lost my wife this year
She succumbed to an illness that she kept
Hidden from me
Right till the end
My daughter won't even look at me
She says I lack
All integrity
And I see cowardice in my sons eyes
It's the same I see
Staring back from the mirror to me
Every morn
And then I go to my job
I work for robots and I'm governed
By ghouls
I'm one of many millions
Of credulous fools
I keep loaded gun
Cocked and ready
On my bedside table
Should I
Develop the *****
In short doc
My life is a swirling toilet
That refuses to flush

**** me!
The chiropodist said
My friend you are clearly in need
Of psychiatric help
But you must know
I'm not qualified
To prescribe
The medicine
And therapy
You need to survive
So tell my moribund friend
Why did you come here
To consult
With a doctor of feet?

The moth said
Because your light was on.

He said,
Oh my god it's ****'s enormous!
Looks like it fell
Off of a brontosaurus.

She said,
Look out love,
It could knock you down!
It could quite easily level this town,
Glass and rubble all around.
My god it's gonna **** the town hall!!!

Chewits
advert late 70's.

Father Time and Mother Nature
Conspired one drunken night
Off the rip
To meet again
Decades later
Upon my gimpy hip.

Been digging through CDs this evening
Might sound like the vynl version
Of me dad
But that would not belong
Because he didn't
View music like that
Been grabbing random
With all due abandon
First Johnny Corndog
The giant Sand
Then Black Sunday
Cypresshillian  demand
Scot Lavenne
The Dust Junkies
The Beatles
And then the
Realest Of People
That makes
oasis redundant
Which turned into
Cohen.

"You came to me this morning and you handled me like meat,you'd have to be a man to know how good that feels"

Leonard Cohen "Recital" radio city music hall April 2013.

From Cheltenham last week's
*** of gold and of honey
Sharp Willie Mullins
Still counting his money.

Just watched a ***** in which
A young lady has *** to *** relations
With several young enthusiastic gentlemen
In the back of a 1930's vintage roadster
It was called "******,****** *******."

The nature of hierarchy
It's there for a reason
Just take it with a pinch of salt
Or out your brains you'll be sneezing.
Ah ****! That's pepper isn't it?

I don't know you now
Since the day you went to town
And came back to me.

The way of life
And executing a Will.

Two minutes to midnight
The hands that threaten doom
Two minutes to midnight
To **** the unborn
In the womb.

The whole room swathed
And so moodily lit
Back when smoking
Was smoking
No one coughed
Not a bit
Like fat little zeppelins
They pumped out some fume
As the replicants
Gripped
By existential gloom
Studied the humans for weakness
Time to die would come soon.

Some disagree with the timeline
Say the Romans didn't go for big blocks
That it don't jive with their efficiency
Always against the clock

Some claim it was Alexander
About three hundred years before
Some even say its impossibly ancient
Posit lost civilisations galore

These shouts are fantastic by nature
Fly in the face o evidence compiled
By generations of strident experts
Disputed by casual tourists
Modern lazy thinking defined

Their points are stretched and wooly
Methodology sketchy at best
The work has been done
They're just having fun
These dolts
The paladins detest

It cannot be true
History has been proved
by research constant and heavy
That's correct I suppose
But Lord heaven knows
thats what they said bout Gobekli Tepe.

I did not issue
And I'm not that sorry about that
But to those who did I tip my hat
they did the work that I would not
With  faith and love
That I could not
Bring  my self
To bite the bullet
I was not able
To stand upon it
And I'd do it  again
Cos what you are so rarely changes
We set our path in certain ranges
And though I would not readily leap
I say
I still hold my manhood cheap.

I met a lady in a pub
And we got on well
The chat was easy
And flowed both ways
I could feel a connection
And I think she did too
The time ran quickly
The last bell rung
Our eyes met
And the lady said
I've enjoyed speaking
To you
I've haven't laughed
Like that in ages
I feel you felt it too
She said
I'd invite you home
But I'm on my menstral cycle
I'm replied smoothly
That's ok queen
I'll follow you home
On my Honda.

I knew a spiv
His was called walker
His first name wasn't Andy
That good old boy
Was nothing but dandy
This man a corker
Every meeting a con
And there was a war on
While Mainwaring fumed
Morality he eschewed
As he pedalled his wares
Double standards accrued
Jones the the Meat
Subserviently concured.

I've had enough
But I won't stop
Till I'm chewing the carpet
That used to be
But times left me
In a state
Of low energy
And ennui
The urge to surge
Now seems absurd
The floor tilts up to put me
Back to bed
To wake restrained
With smoother brain
And pass go again.

Been watching
These yankie police bodycam vids
Yeah i know
Thats some low hanging ****
Both funny and depressing as ****
***** and drugs are involved
Every time that you look
At this classic behavioural sink
At first you assume
That their attitudes just stink
But then you realise
When in this state
It allows one to access
The Demons Of Hate
They live just outside the blood brain barrier
Once a level is breached
They attack like a harrier
It's that dimension
A Planck length
Off of your skin
The horrors of the Cosmos
Drew deadly in
Then released in our world
In repetitive spite
But they don't stay long
Steals a lot of energy
Leaving their host
Aghast and incredulous
Like post nut clarity
They often poignancy invoke
One mumbled
"I'm a cancer researcher,that's why I smoke".

What do I owe you?
Have you kept track?
Deferred from what You owe me
Its in the ledger at the back
But that won't be much
the borrowing was one way
You were the primary lender
Far from predatory
I'd say
The interest
You levied
Accrued
Not collected
My returns
To you
About
What you expected.

When beauty gets down low
To speak to me
I think of you
Neath that shady tree

The chlorophyll packs the leaves so tight
The veins resist with all their might
To store life for the months to come
They greedily swallow the light

I remember laying in the grass
Our eyes on each other still
Your smile matched your pretty dress
The sun transited the hill

We didn't notice it's passage
Till we felt the chill
Till all was shadow
We stood and turned without a word
Our last day on the meadow.

Call no man happy till he's dead
Call no man Flintstone
Till he's Fred
They seem
The same
Until contextualised
Call no man happy till he's died.

Sparhawk threw an SG at me
At least that is
In my memory
He took a couple o turns
Before the release
Like some hammer thrower
Afire like a beast
The road crew
All lost they ****
They could not believe
The fire he'd lit
But no one got hurt
At least that I know
They came back
Twice more to ******
The show.

Imagine the stock
You come from
Your brother
Your sister
Your father
Your mum
The pool of the soup
The essence of bread
The things you decided
Went on in your head
To have a brother
So close to your age
Is a blessing
According to
Mr Farnsworth.

What does that word mean to you?
If it exists
Which it doesn't
So let's reality eschew
It deffo means somat
To everyone what reads it
Like being in the well
Of the world's biggest cathedral
Lie on the floor and look up
You feel every pound
Of the rock
That was shaped
To make you feel this
And what's wrong wid dat
A nexus built
To make one emote
The thing bigger than you are
What you are
When that is felt
Let us feel it
And then repair
To the bar.

Do you remember
Chorlton and the wheelies?
Through the mist
It comes quite freely
But probably not that accurately
My friend

There was an angry
Welsh Witch
Cruel but unarousing
Like a some Marxist
Maggie Thatcher
On the prowl
But Chorlton was
Neurodivergent
To him it was not urgent
To seek vengeance on blodwyn
To make her howl.
But that only made her worse
To spit bile and curse
Which always led to her downfall



Clearly he won every week

It like going to that new David and Goliath movie
And them wanting you
To be shocked at the result
Some entertainment
Shows right in front
Well it doesent show you
But you come preinformed
The curse of the biopic
No story forestalled
Especially if your a fan you tut your way through
You know they didn't do it that way
You wonder why they don't sue
Or at least their estates
Jealous guardians of legacy
Or money grubbing shysters
Rolling round in ignominy
Just look what the *******
Have done to the work's of Tolkien.

When you live on the flight path
You forget it is a road
With traffic lights
And diversions
The sky holds a heavy load
You get used to the rumble
Of the setting down
And taking off
Just faraway from the Tarmac
You can brush them noises off
Like all the things  you won't imagine
Like that persistent scratchy cough.

Friday thinks it's Saturday
Yet that day
Throws its hands in dismay
As it knows it's bound to
Sashay
In to Sunday's
Malaise

I came here with my clay
Ready to throw down.

Like Bill Murray at the end of Scrooged
I'm overcome with emotion
And it's not just the *****
Unfettered sentimentality
Swiftly accrued
As I roll round in mawkishness
That I consume like food
Pining for that which I let die
And would again
To myself I just lie
I wouldn't know the truth
I'm an alien to it
Like some bastardised reverse ******* Jimmy Stewart.

A reverberation not heard
At least not for awhile
Though you never
Sonically perceived it
Deffo made some people smile
Or even reverse snort their cornflakes
In nasal agony
The non reported sound
Makes this gaff more empty
Though a showboat is not off the cards
He could be waiting in the wings
To rush the stage unexpectedly
Rebound the whacky wonderful things.

Is it a good idea Tibet with your life?
And
The State they leave the place is Nepalling.

I went to work one Sunday morn
Overtime bound
My demeanour was still drunken
My eyes cast to the ground
I trod my way down slater st
On full auto pilot
My guts all away
The puking might be violent
I passed a dropped kebab
Perfect and untouched
Thought/loook at that,you don't see that much/
Then strode a few paces more
And scarse believed my eyes
A host o filthy pigeons
Manically alive
In a ghastly circle
They dived and pecked with glee
At a pool of human *****
To an alarming degree
I stopped and looked back
At the dropped kebab
What do they know
That we don't
What is it we lack?

A host of disappointed optimists
Crestfallen once again
The odds were stacked against them
But they remembered when
A Ronnie Radford or Micky Thomas
Could explode a tiny ground
the roof would come off the place
An exhilarating sound
But as it drained down to ninety minutes
With chances growing thin
A thousand tin foil FA Cups
Are going in the bin.

Why would you not
Believe
The things
I would like you
To perceive?

There must be strategy and tactics
If they are not the same thing
Spacing pacing
Distribution o sizes
What does it take
To win all the prizes?
Is it resist first or tug?
Or maybe give it a shove
Oh no that clearly won't work
Blitzkrieg or endurance test?
As you sweat there in yer vest
It may seem completely manual
But it helps if you have read the manual.

When your buddy
Sets up
An elaborate joke
With an international
Recording artiste
Done with skill
Thats completely
Bespoke
Then the only way
To view it
Is from the status of love
Because that's the way
He was thinking of.

Is it an itch
Or an urge?
A ballad
Or
A dirge?
Or a chance
For you
To purge
Your bowels?

When your looking at the point of an image
I think they call it the bokeh
How long till your eyes wander round
And settle on the details unfocused
Not quite sharp
Perhaps underexposed
Somewhat in the dark
You don't know why
Your mind fell upon it
But there's sommat there
Though it's clearly not clear
sometimes the background
Is the hot ****.

JFK in 62
Said they would put a man on the moon
And return him safe
Before the decade was through
We choose to go
He said three times
And paused
As the applause declined
Then added
And do the other things
not because they easy
But because they are hard
What would we see on the turn of that card?
What could they be
These difficult things?
Unnamed
Undescribed
New ideas to take wing
To foster global entente
Would be a hell of a trick
Or did he just do it
To measure his ****?

Theres a war between hamsters and toads
How it started nobody knows
But it's lasted now
Since time out of mind
And the hate simply has not declined

A border dispute?
Or more Tonton macoute?
Hamsters don't go for it subtle
While the toads they abide
And wait for stars align
And know now its time to throw down

For thousands o years
It's was nothing but tears
Though neither are capable o crying
Through relentless attrition
And murderous ambition
By the countless millions
They were dying.

But there's news from the front
Arbitration's afoot
There be disrupters
Of slime and of fur
They want peace and not war
To both kings they implore
Pointless hatred
Must be denied.