You can swing from a gibbet
Or process coffee like a civet
And die knowing
You served the lord
Anyway.

You were like thin bleach
On a ****
You smoothed it right out
And removed any residual nutrients.

Like Shaw and Dreyfus
Like Kubrick and duval
Like Klinski and Herzhog
Just like Derek and Clive
A bit like Eric and Ernie
Not at all like Cannon and ball
Antagonism is a tactic
Not loved by one and all

"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.

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

I used to walk past
A basement Dojo
On my way work
The legend on the lintel read
THIS SCHOOL IS BUILT ON TRUST
A noble statement
A fine endeavour
Talk about **** or bust

A beautiful idea
A place open to the world
Balanced on the good conscience
Of everyone concerned

The feeling of connection
When all hold the pact
And that of betrayal
When character is lacked

But that's the only way
If your going to walk that path
To feel the sun upon your face
Never fearing for your back.

She asked the wiseman
Could he describe nothing
He said no
But he'd have a go at everything
He began with
Aardvarks

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

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

The delay between the bite and the taste
The eight and a haf minutes wait
For the sun's rays
To penetrate
The good Earth

Try and swat a fly with your hand
Your brain will put it in another place
Like some winged Lomachenko
In the space
Where your swipe was not

A similcast that is out of phase
You hear the goal
Before it's visually displayed
That brings dismay

And then of course
There is the worst
When you get kicked
In the *****
And time gets reversed
Then know you've got
A second or two
Before you cry.

America passes
Mother's Day
Just over
A month after
But we
Celebrate the dads
On the
Same day
Without laughter
Allowing
For the worlds turn
Against
All
Disaster
The
Weird
Thing
Is
The
Mas
Are
Still
*******
Plastered.

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 ****.

I think I've seen
AI videos
About how much
Sleep you need
But
Good lord
I'd feel terrible
If I've
Human relieved.

What's that thig that you Yanks do?
From the civil war to World War Two
From Getsyburg to the sea o tranquility
That haunting sound gets driven into me
Through the smoke and swathed in reverb
The nations emotions
Sonically preserved
Uniquely you
You ******* own it
That old evocative
American trumpet.

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

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.

Infinite complacency
Unchecked technology
What needs to be
Is what will be
Aerial warfare
To the fore
He died
A year after Hiroshima
Must have broke his heart
To be so right.

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.

Synonym
Antonym
Contronym
Tiny Tim
That last one's illiteration.
Bread and eggs
And unripe 'nanas
Lead to constipation.

He went looking
But couldn't  find it
Anywhere
The fuel in his tear drop gas tank
Could of took him beyond care
After a realisation
That tear drop explodes
The American dream
Red White and Blew
All over the road.

Staring out the window
Can't find the words
I crave
Trying to get this finnished
Coffee keeps goin
Back in the microwave.

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.

You can cut and banter
About form and intent
And about the nature of where
Intensity is meant
But from what is implied
To what that gets said
You've got to give to them Millwallians well met

No one likes us
No one likes us
No one likes us
We don't care
We are Millwall
Super Millwall
We are Millwall
From the Den.

My grandad on my mothers side
Was an idiosyncratic cat
Obsessed with engineering
Draughtsmanship and that

Recorded and catalogued
Big bands on a reel to reel
Oft silent in a low mood
You never knew the way he'd feel

But at Chrimbo came his home brew wine
and after a glass or two
He'd start to act all silly
Mug for the camera
Then the night was through

He had a turn of phrase
Long outmoded in the seventies
To the point of incomprehension
To the children of his latter days

If you asked what he was doing
He'd say I'm just scratching out my Ditty box
An invite to absurdism?
Or another life he'd half forgot?

I think he missed the war
And the certainty
It brought
As he poured over his old blueprints
The battles still unfought

The curve of the Earth goes looking for you
It wants to find your trough
Stop eating for a moment
For this data is quite rough
It wants to tell you something
Why to this marble you are glued
Only now the revelation
After eons have accrued

It'll be different for you and me
And all that touch the ground
Why gravity is set that way
Almost but not quite bound

It lets you jump and skip
Without floating through the ether
Or getting crushed to bits
Each human
Whale
And caterpillar

Semi fixed in place
All tiny flavours slowly mix
But if just one evaporates
Premature

The brew is ruined

Can't be fixed

Climbing mountains
Aviation
Space flight
Are resistance to the plan
To keep all ingredients
Aboiling in the pan
The stew is almost ready
It just needs a bit more salt
Unless we truly slip them surly bonds
But that deffo won't be my fault.

I like them flat peaches
But they take an age to soften up
Then you turn round
For a second
And they've  turned
Into a rotten pulp.

Let us walk upon the earth
Feel the sod twixst the toes girth
The universe shrunk to human level
That kind  o thing
Can make you feel terrible
But that's the exercise
From max to mini
What it is huge
Without me
Is scant
Withinme.

Norm McDonald's moth
Dave Allen's clock
There's some comedy bits
That are just off the hook
Mitch Hedberg's rice
Bill hick's wax dart
Norm again with
Janice in the woods
It's an art
To encapsulate
Pathos bathos
And litotes
Like that
with
Absurdism bubbling
It's an Hell o an act.

It's Life Of Brian season
I'll watch it a couple of times this week
As we slide into Easter
Christianity's peak
Malcolm Muggeridge called it tenth rate buffoonery
Casting stones made of disingenuousness
Though they could hardly be accused of flagrant too soonery
The Bishop of Southwark clutched his pearls
It's like they never heard of the sacred and the profane
To throw mirth at the infallible
Everyone gets it
Everyone to blame
We all have an effect
Wether in or out the game.

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.

I see Andy Kaufman has finally admitted he's not dead.

When miserable ***** turn up
They do so in big trucks
Cos they like to travel en masse
To block the light
They won't let it past
But their convoys aren't that long
They believe they are
But they don't throng
And round a curving mountain pass
A serpent turns to eat it's ****.

I remember
I'm sure I do
At least
I think that's true
I deffo recall you
Or who you were
But I'm
Remembering
A memory
The last time
I recalled it
And the time before that
Feel like
Christopher Reeve
Caught at the end
Of
Somewhere in time
Or that K-Pax fella
When hit the end of the line.

When you look into
The oft talked about
Black mirror
Depending on the light
Your face seems thinner

Your features sharpen
Your eyes fill in dark
Like a cute super villain
Not one of them that
Lurks in the park.

The boy stood on the burning deck
His legs were all a-quiver
He gave a cough
His leg fell off
And floated down the river.




Saturday night 70's telly.

I had a friend
Thirty years ago
He had nowt
Didn't have two ha'pennys to rub together
Managed to get himself
A little Handcart
He went round
Collecting all old newspapers
Day and night he toiled
Seven days a week
And twice on Sunday
To one day make his fortune
And do you know what he's worth today?
NOTHING!
And he still owes for the handcart.

I looked right at it
They told me not to
Now I'm walking into walls
My retinas shot through.

Take yer coat off
You won't
Feel the benefit
I was told many times
As a kid
Wonder if that's true
We do an experiment
In terms of
Trapped layers
Of heat.

What is that my love?
Is it the wind up above?
The end in the trees?

Not people with friends
Into the collective
We dare not descend
Or is that just me
Refused entry
By not knocking on the door
Not even walking up the street
Not even getting off the bus
Not even getting on the bus
Scanned the timetable with horror.

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

Early
Mid
Late
Never.

The three heaviest stones ever hewn and then placed
Rest in Jupiter Baal
27 years before Christ was born
By the the Romans
Long before their fall

Each close to 800 tons
Hoisted 30 foot in the air
And fitted so tight
You can't tell em apart
Put together with unfathomable care

But the quarry they're cut from
Not a mile away
Holds wonders even more vast
Three monoliths with a joint weight
O  4000 tons
Sit waiting  forlorn on the grass

The pregnant
The forgotten
The southern
Carved but never  transported
Will idle the ages
In dour unemployment
Their installation
Never reported.

I fell down the steps
Of the Lincoln memorial
It really hurt my knees
I fell down the stairs
Of the Lincoln memorial
In front of
Near a hundred
South Koreans

We went to
Holsten's
And sat in Jimmy's booth
Bout a month before he died
Should have seen it there
In that final episode
It was written
All over his eyes.

The moai faced inland
Away from the sea
Ghosts of dead leaders
Born from deities you see

Hewn from volcanic tuff
Soft no doubt
Compared to basalt or diorite
Which Are ******* to dig out

If they had only turned the other way
They might have seen disaster coming
Dutch killers on Easter morn
Peruvian slavers
Had them running

But it is a small island
And there was no tree cover
They cut them down so long ago
So they could grow some tucker

European disease
South American ******
Cut the population down low
As a couple o hundred years rolled by
And crops refused to grow

So the god's where cast down
Face down on the ground
Venerated protectors brought low
The people despaired
Beyond all hope and care
A paradise with no seeds to sow

Then the pickings were slim
Raiders had no one to ****
So they left them alone to their plight
But the moai are back on their feet now
Resurrected
As a world heritage site.

Cologne Essen and Dresden
Felt the whip of the whirlwind
In what was cast as
The thousand bomber raid
Though the numbers
Somewhat fudged
Still demonstrable
Terrible
Technological death
As the Blitz
And Coventry
Rolled back on their necks.

Here comes the chosen one
Back for another go
The disc beard man
Has laid them low
So he had to depart

For Canaan calls them home
A new land by the water
That they might grow in strength
That they might  be what they aught to

Led from the desert harsh
To the haven
Of the bay
To begin again in hope
To bask in the nurturing  rays
Of the soon glory days

So King David has returned
And that fits
For he is
Between Moses and Christ
To these poor Evertonians

Last seen approaching low
At the bottom o Shaw St
Riding side saddle on his ***
He'll be there by this evening.

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.

Hail to thee sweet Roger
As you step through
The Great Curtin
The calm clear voice
You wrote in
Gave your creator
Quite the hurting
And so you pay
The ferryman
To cross the river Styx.
Who'se that ******* on the microphone
It can't be
OH ****** ****!!!!!!!!

I heard a few people say
Their fear of death was blown away
By seeing a picture
Of their folks
Afore they were born
In the snap
An older sibling
In their arms
Giggling and wriggling
Before the stuff that made them was formed

At that moment
They knew
Gave them truth to hold on to
There was no pain and anguish
And they were not bored
And it will be the same
After The reaper came
No one suffers
All is nothing
In the void.