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

Like Hunter's nervous recall
But the memories
Fall back
Not rise forth
To the time
When they were
Of course
Not the late sixties
Remembered in 71
But from this very evening
To decades long gone
To a place that was blurry
And hemmed in with fear
No sense of the self
Seemed anywhere near
So with the right set of eyes
You can climb up the hill
And see
The low water mark
Sitting there still.

Just a sherry at Christmas
Or your liver in a sling
Maybe one o them
For whom
Abstinence is the thing
We spread across the boozey map
In all the directions there are
Negotiate the contours
As we head toward the bar
Some move to the desert
Where there barely falls a drop
Some might as well live in the ocean
The soak that never stops
Some imbibe for giggles
Others to ward off life
To many it's a form of marriage
The sauce she is my wife
Wether  slightly buzzed
And connected
Or too arseholed to think
We see the city on the hill
As where we go to drink.

The terribleness of what you are
Cannot be viewed from afar
You've got to stick your head in it
Snort and gurgle your own ****
And when you high
On your fine farts
Tell the world
That this is art.

My father died of dyslexic alchoholism
He choked on his own Vimto.

I've just been offered a job
General Director Of Business
I know not of the nature of
this queerness
In terms of the
The direction of
This business
Wether general
Or not
The new year wind
Brings a chance
To slough and shake off
Anything that you want.

I haven't seen a fox for a bit
They used to strut round here
Cos it fit
They ritual run through
On where they where goin
Route to the food
And so to they ruin

On polystyrene and MSG
They gene pool be knowing
It's not the best in terms
Of the growing
O size of they skulk
Maybe that's why I don't see em that much
Represented on the BBC

Sam and Dianne
Tony and Carmela
Vera and Jack
Bobby and Shiela
Boston
Jersey
Weatherfield
Liverpool.

Tilly licks her lips
When the vinegar hits the chips
Don't you know now
She does backflips?

She'll walk by your side
If you have some scampi fries
Or perchance a cheesy moment
When it comes to food
She'll brook no opponent
Were  I to die
She'd eat my components.

What ever happened to Selina Scott?
Like lady Di
But way more hot.

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

The Holy Spirit descended
Upon the ****** Mary's chamber
It was the 24th of march

"Oh hi H!" Said Mary
"Gabe',said you be comin round
But I'm not sure what we doin
His clues thin on the ground.
He seemed a bit flustered
So what is it you want?
He made it sound important
Kept staring at his feet"
H S stroked his chin
Dropped his kecks
Asked
"Do you know what this is?"
She said
" I cannot conceive "
He bade her hold that thought
He would make her believe.

All hail the Toblerone
King of the awkward chocolates
If you buy a big one on a plane
It'll drain all of your pockets
Of residual dollars or euros
Bhatt **** or lek
Or **** it!
Why not dash off
Your last travellers cheque

Honeyed almond sweetness
Who could decry that
Only the honeyed almond intolerant
And you can never trust them *****
Just it's satisfying chunkiness
It's heft and it shape
Is something deeply pleasing
The chocolate biscuit it doth take

It's true name lost to time
It should be Tobler one
For its creator was named Tobler
And he'd only just begun.

But there he stopped.

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

He fell out of the poet tree
          And
               Hit
        Every
                   Branch
                                 On
                           The
                       Way
                  Down.

There's always bin the idea
O two sets o books
Ever since books were invented
A curious process in which we all are involved
It's what keeps us from going demented

One set the truth
That unravels unheeded unseen perhaps
By those around who look on
The other your truth
Somewhat tailored but blurred
Of what you thought
You'd become

Cos the moral compass has no external dial
To ink on your page no one listens
So You can write down the details
However you like
Talk about a double entry system.

Got that sickness
Makes you sweat and shiver
At the same time
Makes your bones ache
Like they might vibrate apart
Nausea rises and swells
Just like Noah's Ark
Delerium not Tremens
Adrift in the dark
Is it night or day?
Am I hot or cold?
Like the ills of childhood
Like the ills of old
It'll pass soon enough
And then i will not care
That I feel I've been poisoned
And thrown down the stairs.

I remember a fella
At war with his self
At times he seemed lost
But not beyond help
He howled at the moon
He wept to the rain
The ants in his pants
Then lived in his veins
His verse was beauty
It was warm
It was tight
Right up to the day
That he turned
Out
The
Lights.

The depths o distain
Where you hold yourself
The heights o attain
Where you shoot yourself
The heart o the Brain
Where you make yourself
But the love you distain
That's where you
**** yourself.

Ritchie Blackmore
On that white strat
that vid
Live between the eyes
Late summer 82

Just down the hill
From the Alamo
Pyro expected
And so given
from Ser Blackmore to you

Had it on VHS
The Beeb braoadcast it
At three in the morning
Got my autistic little brother
To set the recording

It's on YouTube now
And that's quite the relief
Was about to do battle
But it saved me the grief
From that box in the cupboard
Forty odd untitled tapes

They sit there in layers

And I haven't even got
A video player.

The throb you feel or you don't
Bounces off of some of
The things
That you want
But then again
There's the general malaise
That imagines
With no evidence
The things that you crave.

I knew a fellah called
Henry Dumbell
His son changed his name by deed pole
And died in a skydiving accident
Six months later.

When the lightning
Strikes the eruption
What is forged in the smoke
Will fall immediate to earth
See it rolling down the *****
Bouncing off of boulders
Striking sparks in the gloom
Creating filaments
Dark gossamer
For the coming terrible loom.

They saw them at Mcminville
They had nothing to gain
Betty and Barney Hill
Experienced real pain
At Rendlesham forest
They ****** with the recruits
In Phoenix in 97
It seemed the governor
Was in cahoots
The go fast
The tik tak
The gimble
And the cube
The ******* huge triangle
But it's not evidence accrued
Cos they would have to land
At The Don's inauguration
And even that
Wouldn't  cure my
Constipation.

Scrooge would be just about clocking off now,the **** piece.
But at least he led by example.

We've built our church on the ruins of yours
It's always been that way of course
Sumarian Egyptian Hittite Inca
Reappropriation was what they were into
And rightly so
Can't waste that foundation
Took some of it with them
As they altered their nations
Through horror and peace
Some stone gets chipped off
The passage of time
Grinds down and smoothes rock
To a differing shape
Somethings lost
Somethings gained
But there's never been history
Without shouting and pain
So we'll build our church
on the ruins of theirs
Again and again through the
Cycling years.

Tilly licks her lips,when the vinegar hits the chips.
Don't you know? Now,
she does back flips.
She'll walk by your side
If you have some scampi fries
or perchance , a Cheesey moment,
when it comes to food
She'll brook no opponent,
Were I to die
She'd eat my components.

It's all on her terms,
She don't need you or no one else,
She has herself,
But what's that in your hand?
Could it be something she might understand
To be human food?
Always in that mood,
She will not be misconstrued.

Early
Mid
Late
Never.

Laughter is involuntary
A knee **** so they say
Nexus to and exit from
The darkness
Way hey hey

What are you laughing at?
I don't find that funny
I am appalled
And your in stitches
To me that makes you scummy

Giggling or not at the horror
Wether Death,disease or blight
is something instantaneous
Neither wrong or right
Then weigh and mull it later
At your leisure through the night

We've got the Greeks
To thank for that
Formulating our condition
To laugh or frown
Or roll your eyes
Is not your own decision.

Round and round the ragged rock
The ragged rascal ran
He knew not of the point o it
Or how he had began

The rock it was enormous
And though he'd only been round twice
It felt like several days had passed
The sun set at least thrice

On and on he kept
Unwilling to maintain But unable to stop
On this vast remote empty beach
Around that ******* rock

His beard it grew
His feet they blistered
But round and round
He still persisted

There was a lady somewhere
Outraged her care worn thin
But that can't be it surely
What was driving him?

He wore a rut into the sand
That became a trench
Had she put a curse on him That cruel vindictive witch?

He limped now in agony
Circuiting his narrow canyon
Till a freak tsunami wave
Gave him peace
And drown him.

Give me a well honed
Katana
And I'll walk any street
Straight into
Well deserved defeat.

From my lungs to your ears
And then hopefully your brain
The squishy bit in the midfield
That copes with love and pain
The Hypothalamus spreads
Joy and doom through the land
Secreting oxytocin  
From the pituitary gland

Not to be confused
With the hippopotamus
Which controls memory
Short term not bottomless
That might explain
Why we do it again
And again
Walking the line twixst
Love's
Heaven
And
Hell

A friend of mines mother just died
I haven't seen him for awhile
But when I think of him
It always makes me smile
I haven't got his number.

When I was a kid
The TarMac
Used to slowly weep
Bubbled up in the summer
Like it was seeking relief
We'd gather it up
On the end of lollipop sticks
Smear it on the arms and legs
Of all of our friends
Pretended it torture
Like it was searing the skin
Instead of pleasantly warm
Sweet smelling
Soft resin
The aroma of Cypress
And Cedar
And Myrrh
On those hot seventies days
Without a care.

I remember seeing my first Greebo
It was on the bus to town
Swaythed in crusty denim
He lived by his own sound

I must have been 7 or 8
And was with me ma
Casting furtive glances over me shoulder
At the great gallah

His hair was strident
His beard was fierce
He stunk of hippy juice
My god i thought
By his lifestyle
I am preternaturally seduced

I'm guessing through
The mists o time
He must be pushing 70
I hope his life was happy
And his rockin was aplenty.

Kick off
All ensues
No one is safe
Final whistle
Violence is
Nobody cares
Patrick Thistle.

The only thing stopping you
Is that massive unclimbable boulder
You pretend can't be walked around.

The inn at the oaks
Is where we all decompose
Spiritually

Bus poem
Bus poem
How I wish
I had
Your ma
To go on.

Mama cass
Shoulda passed
On that ham Sandwich.

That's a horrible thing to say
When she passed
They was no drugs
In her system
And she deffo
Did not choke
On no ham sarney.

When Arthur C Clarke
Talked of the ancestor of sadness
It was largely time
That was the prime factor
But in the age
We are in
What is the impactor
As all that is expands

Saw an ad in the personal colounm
Looking for someone to meet and immediately ******
Have *** with your corpse and then eat you.
Thinking about giving it a go.

Steven Spielberg called
And offered me and my identical twin brother a job
It was on his hatchery
We'd be monitoring
The defacatory habits
Of the livestock
We were to be
Close Hen Counters Of the **** Kind.

She had a thing for tapered candles
In a dildonourous way
Wick fully lit
On the end pointing outwards
Or So they say
But the same drugs
That fuelled her depravity
Sent her to sleep
As the flame burned on
stuck there in the deep
Luckily the candle blew out
And the wax hardened there
Once thought lubricant
Become sealant
Set standing there
And so the gods posed her
In an image so stark
An avante garde
Candlebra
Displayed in the dark

I've been staring at a greyness of late
No joy to which I relate
Feeling both ancient and infantile
It'd be nice to be alive for awhile.

It's a cycle or so they say
From singin the blues to feeling gay
Sort the laughs out into a pile
Yes I'd like to be alive for awhile.

The mood is different the laughs are old
By your father you have been forestalled
Who layed it down in that old sweet style
I remember he was alive for awhile.

And after it happens,I'll fall through the air,
Braced for the impact that will not be there.
Form tightened and strained
Expecting the blow,
But I'll tumble forever
To what happens below.

Was Alexander  really that great?
Or was everyone else a bit ****?

Today begins the Tenebrae
The extinguishing of candles
The gradual diminishing of light
Then a loud noise in the darkness
It's not practiced much these days
You need the requisite clergy
And the will to witness after midnight
the desire for which deserts me
It seems older than Christ
Redolent of the Egyptians
Like Sekhmet in her Karnak chapel
Unlit
Against time
Resistant.

When you move in together
You both bring all your ****
And nobody wants
To surrender not even
Just a bit
So you double up on lamps
And stereos and mugs
But the worst offender Is cutlery
Those stainless steel thugs
And the worst o the worst
Is of course the spoon
Cos there's Several sizes
Applications and soon
When combined together
Both hers and yours
They take up the full drawer
A redundancy of course
And  when youse part
As is written in the runes
She'll leave the ******* with you
Cos
Women
Have
No
Interest
In
Spoons.