theatrical prop
my mother had a prop
down in the garden
flat on the bottom
a V on the top
all the washing on the line
they blew just fine
until to pulley broke
and oh my god no joke
all hell broke loose
that bloody noose
that V on the top
was the bottom line
i swear it was
i saw it see
just like yesterdee
it was
hospital vigil
it’s the little things
where you place it
your longing
your ambivalence
about going or staying
and the thin gruel of time
dripping away in a rush
what the bloody hell
stuck in the drain like
like a shedding
the mixer
with one tap running
how can it possibly work
hot turned to a cold why
why do i scream why
so silently
springboard
on the edge of the sage’s
flowering
now the bluebells
push aside the cranesbill
the garden’s border wall
has lift off
bees the flight directors
on this flat top all at sea
sunned in waves down
the cat’s purring back
what’s next the thought
of the next one to think
isn’t it just wonderful
AI Don’t
AI
who cares
i will still write (like this)
someone may read
what i write might
feed AI
but who cares
ask AI
i don’t
oh baby baby
didn’t i just
a teaser at easter
half way to the moon and yet
they cannot find the pilot
who serviced golgotha
further than man has ever been
yet still no closer to the end
where to look back would be
a final gasp at
the eclipse of the stone
rolled back in the orbit
of forever’s relapse
siesta minute
easter
every year we die
every year we resurrect
last year’s war
as this year’s war
but i didn’t start it
you did
forgive you
don’t make me laugh
i’ll have a stitch in my side
golgotha
at mar-a-lago
a hole-in-one
but on the other hand
this fool’s gold
tried to serve
both god and mammon
and no one won
