café
sit me at a café table
with a book across your smile
coffee me and croissant me
we’ll go that extra mile
we’ll talk of yesterday
last night
the plans we have today
and when the papers say something
you look at me that way
you know ~ sort of quizzically
you smile at my smile
and we laugh the moment away
"wouldn’t cross the road to piss on you if you were on fire"
the history books
listing the steps towards wars and beyond
yesterday today
they are listing the stations
on the road to armageddon
not the explosive sort
or an ending that will be read in books
but the end of history itself
the end of the world
no one will read that history
but all are reading the signs
all along the road designed
by everyone’s mitre
the steps
into the catacombs
the handrail
into the crematoria
the pestilence
the signs and omens
just folk lore
yet behold they come to pass
this was the naffness
that was so easily dismissed
time and again such valid refusals
have been the lodestone of longevity
now no longer than my finger
that though the peephole
is seen to curl and beckon
in the crematorium of the ‘well i’ll be damned’
and damn me
you still refuse to believe
that you are on fire
i recall the epithet
"wouldn’t cross the road to piss on you if you were on fire"
all gone up in steam
the green drinking fountain in cwmdonkin park
the chained cups
long since unchained
the long-quaffed sups
were never enough
either side of the written sea
green and alone now
in the standing of decision
near the pavilion of hope
less cared for in another green
is bowls-less tennis-less
broken-seated land-locked
the performer has long-played his last
and left his lost words for the souls
who drunk on upland’s taverns hold
a seance with the dead
below the hill above the cricket sea
gable-ended bordered here around
the social strata long confused
long mixed the words do not tell
but of the past’s precipice
we did not know that edge
this park has parked
has lost the will to wait
rose beds or playground
wooded paths or bowling green
he’s nowhere to be seen
can we not see
he’s nowhere to be seen
move along now
it’s time to mow
fynnone don’t make me laugh
eden avenue don’t make me laugh
i have parked my battered case
corner nation
pussy cat pussy cat
what is that bling
i’ve been to london
to see the king
pussy cat pussy cat
what did you there
i frightened democracy
under the throne
castellation
all the castles have signs
we have to read them
to wonder at the past
do we
or
if you prefer
touch the walls
feel the warmth that denies the dead
does the king need a sign
other than genuflection
see where there were floors
where we now see sky
well that’s all the sign you need
look out of the arrow slits
raise the portcullis
paths
paths go
where feet go
~~ obstacles ~~
paths meander around
is it a wonder
that we follow in the footsteps of others
who pioneer another way
their way
it could be our way
anyway
any way
you please
me do
a way with you
oxytocin
surge of an inland sea
upon the rocks
a river dopamine
falls down the mind’s shaft
a chase is on
the end in sight
time is jiggling the prizes
around and around we go
the love train
the ghost train
the dodgems’ electricity
all the fun of the fair
kiss me quick
i’m blind drunk
win me a cuddly toy
words
how they play off words
the right word
off the right word
taking them to another level
another dimension
where the cultural baggage
of one word plays off the other’s
baggage
reclaimed on the carousel of mind’s insanity
no sane person thinks this way
except hope
river pollution
a society that allows this is nothing but a dry husk
the butterflies have flown away
the cadis fly larvae are all dead
the dance above the river is blown
we are belly up bouncing along the bottom
some still scream over the weir
weird days my friend
compost didn’t meant this
carpet A lists
the rule breakers have their money
they don’t care about you
or give you a second thought
it’s called capitalism you fool
and it is corrupt
the equality of the field is bordered by hedges
when they hedges are removed
the combine harvesters reap what you sowed
rats run
terriers kill
careful now for you reap what you sow
they have their silos
you have your begging bowl
you also have your pitch forks