the brain worm
the invisible robot
corrupting thought
so that they forgot
the restraint do not
so they did
with a vengeance
that seemed a timeless
inheritance
it was not news to them
but history made large
obvious
a no brainer
was the last thought they had
too late the epitaph
their fingers wrote in the dust
junior school in the 1950s
let me show you mine
four years
three streams
A B C
I was always in stream A
top class
six rows
I was always in the first row
six double desks
I was usually on desk three or four
never desk one
although I was once as I recall
sitting with Alan Rees
he was always on desk one
god he was boring
I preferred desk two
sitting with Wendy Redacted
I once showed her mine and she showed me hers
she lived in the second stone semi
up Redacted road
where the approved school was
in infants school I played with
Gloria Puttyfoot and Linda Clutterbuck
Gloria used to spin me at arm’s length
and helped me jump up onto the coal bunker
never saw them in junior school
even their glorious names didn’t help
they were Cs you see
small tributaries
small wonder small wonder
all water under the bridge to nowhere
the news rote large
the invisible robot
corrupting thought
so that they forgot
the restraint not too
so they did
with a vengeance
that seemed a timeless
inheritance
it was not news to them
but history made large
obvious
a no brainer
was the last thought they had
too late the epitaph
their fingers wrote
in the bloody dusk
hey aye the asses oh
reflecting on the picture frames
haunting
the way they were or weren’t
or never will be again
a child chins the window of tomorrow
lifted by yesterday’s hand me downs
time to smile just in case they are
or maybe aren’t looking
perhaps they never were
do you see what i see
race you!
wait for me!
he went
so that he could come back
you wait knowing
he’s not coming back
you are half gone with it
the walk back
talking his hand
back home to wait
for you to get ready
it’s nothing really
it’s difficult to imagine nothing
because it does not exist
so nothing doesn’t matter
yet we try to imagine nothing
so how does it do that
i tried to imagine nothing once
and managed not to imagine anything
but that nothingness healed over
like a cavity after a tooth extraction
and the pain was forgotten
next time i’ll insist on an anaesthetic
then i will feel nothing
the breaking news breaks me
reading the headline
nurse shot by ICE
the drizzle cries outside of my
no no noooooooooooo
for the cord on the news bundle
has been cut and will hang for ever
for my shame at being unable
has disabled me again
sorry to hear you are (very) unwell
where we dare not go
but are heading
into a headwind of words
that are blown away
like useless leaves
that in actual fact
are the footstool
of springtime
oh dad
toast with melting butter
tea just so and then
the door closed the dark out
he went out somewhere
where he always went with
my thought that is was nice toast
such nice toast by the fire
in his special chair a smile
a mile wide wrapped around
that feeling of warmth
for ever more
just ice
the pin caused a stroke
there was no blood lost
although the northern lights
were bright red that night
and singing was heard
far away
a Ouija board
spelled out ‘justice’
draft
a poem pops up
either side of sleep’s border
the sandman hits snooze
but the games afoot
‘complete’ becomes a word
upon which the moon smiles
smug with it’s silver ink
it has edited it all before
over the mountains of its disregard
wide eyes smile
well i went like …
i am so small
the universe is so big
and yet
when i no longer exist
neither will the universe
where do birds go to die
i rarely see a dead bird
to another universe perhaps
what if what if
when i die i am born in another universe
where i am writing a poem just like this
and you are reading it
just like this
no not reading it ‘just like this’
but just like this poem ❤️
because it could be my ticket to immortality
i got the immorality bit sorted already
like
