let's never leave the bed, not even for a bit
you can stay here forever, you'll be amazed
by how much you can do, horizontally
nothing poetic, only tragedy is expected
here, for a very very long time
that's what we've been longing for, isn't it?
i owe you much, my friend!
just this one more thing, my friend!
could you do it for me? could you do it for us?
could you please
stay
stay in the bed.

One brief glimpse of heaven
Before neverending exile
Is Hell.
Left with eternal longing,
After the universe contracts
To a pinhead.
Yet, I experienced perfection
With impenetrable mountains,
Bedless lakes,
Plains of current-ridden grasses,
Bluest skies.
Ethereal realms don't appeal
When I have this world to peek in on;
This Sistine to confound me,
This sentient reality in full.
The angel is coming to drive me out,
With fire and ice,
I lived paradise:
It is blue and green.

In one and out if the other is not blocked by wax,

You know that
personal hygiene is bankrupt when
your ears sprout potatoes,

'now't wrong that a dab of soap won't clear', me da' used to say

Steep is only that which we steep in
that which we keep inside.

An assortment if thoughts can be this on a morning in June when the bus comes too soon and yippee there really is room
on the top.

On to the platform.
ready to view?
I see a aeroplane
hanging in the sky
it doesn't seem to move
can you explain why?

heading to Poplar which used to be popular
until U went away.

and here's the asylum
( picture included)
denuded of lunatics
home now for the heretics
(***** those on benefits)

it's changing too quick,
and where do the sick go
or don't we help them
no more?

And they're already out
shaking their buckets,
money for this one
money for that one
I haven't got none,
where does it go
and who gets relief,
is charity the thief
in our midst?

We're not supposed
to ask awkward
questions like this.
let's
ask them anyway.

Armed police down
on Whitechapel road
( picture not included )
for security reasons
treason is trending
bridges need mending
and yet
who is it out there defending
the system?

five an hour at a push
who's driving this bus?
I'm at a loss
but
for certain it ain't
Sterling Moss.

Wednesday
bedless day
work today
and the guy
In front of me
earphones on
looks like a
nodding donkey
gone wrong.


If life is a pipe dream
why then
this smoke screen
what is it hiding?

Three pronged leaves stain the footpath.

Yesterday’s rain indents their tridents

Around Shoreditch. Swept away by council,

Amusingly, at the start of autumn.



In October, when morning’s golden sun

Lies shadows on each building you pass,

This building - a holy one - has front steps

That bed the bedless.



In October, the tattooed pavement

On Pittfield Street illuminates with lives

Past and present. Spring’s leaves have now fallen

And left these trident swords to battle winter.