About Me

london, United Kingdom
composed of abundant light particles which remain relativistic until shortly before recombination. - I like screwdrivers, wooden panelling, ice sculpture, biros, gingham, the forest, clipboards, mustard, notebooks, maths, ketamine, archways, cellophane, rope, puffball mushrooms, loudspeakers, guns, knee-high socks, garages. - I don't like fishfingers, eyeballs, scrappy cats, plasters, liars, hair in food, ketamine, several types of insect, petri dishes, psychology students, toilet roll dolls, pinking scissors, wet dreams

Monday, April 6, 2009

chip chip chip



goes the chisel on

i can feel the bits

peel off, it's



chipping



and underneath is blue and red and

yello



i underestimate the skin of you

the

hands are wrapped in

bubble wrap one



under the tracks one



under the rockery



i keep on with my

tool

hit a line



and blood like a tree goes



-kapow
it's all well green

it would seem &

down comes the sun

into my wintry lap



i see the first

girls with straps &

naked arms

gooseflushed as april

flesh in patterned

leaves



why when for so long

the dark clears to this

bell-clear morning

would my heart hang so

heavy in the

branches of that

budding space?



and in the sound of the crank

of summer &

dusting off of candlelight

where all is fresh and new and

smelling white



i kick a bird

it shatters

Friday, April 3, 2009

the spastics on the telly put me off my mince pie

i looked round to see granny's teeth

"tinsel is a snake" i said, but

they didn't hear me

(over the queens peach-

which rose out of the wrapping

like a statue)



hear me out i say

i'm here with this aftershave what

you've got me

the bottle is a man with a cock

like a toblerone

it's confusing

and smells mainly of

tears

but in a way



it's just what i've always



wanted
i ran into an industrial estate and looked around
the spikes got me

i opened my eyes to the exchange rate
it was no good

i have drunk all the drinks
and told in bars of past dead singers and
cotton picker’s slave chests

you have fallen off the world and gone-
in pictures you look vague

and i’ve been stuck in worse
elevators with dry fishing dreams
of the great wide open

but if i could take my spear and run it
into your body i would