reading a writer writing about a writer

 reading a writer writing about a writer

now i am all wet again 

again soaked by his words again

again the hardback again

his reign 

it will never stop 

child stood

 child stood

a plaid mind 

where all five senses 

are intertwined 

in a time when time

itself ran wild 

bouncing 

hoop stick rolling

wings on heels

having spun spin some more

and laughter was a giddy delight

hanging upside down

the world at the end of your hair

grasses shivery shaking

oh by god we did

do you remember 

when i carried you 

mystery

 mystery

memory

as cloudy as a memory

lost around a looking

past the fences

around far misty ways 

around the outside of

looking for that memory

that as you recall 

was a true memory 

if only you could

recall how it was that

it slipped away from you

you left it somewhere 

you had it you did 

you know that 

now just think 

Digital poetry

 Digital poetry

I dictated this into my phone …

‘wheelie bins on coiffured verges’

and it came up with …

Really binge on Crawford virgins

so the transitory muse is binary

mr peltser

 mr peltser 

was a cross-dresser (in the photo)

went to live with his daughter

and hung himself

from the stair rail

i was about four

at the age when memories hang around

in the queue for deletion

but the grim reaper was busy

seventy three years later

i still remember

they thought they knew why he did it

whisper whisper

there he is

in the coronation photo

front bench far right

i am on my mam’s lap wearing a tam

damn 

i remember it like yesterday

in the row behind us

house on the far right

all gone now (of course)

the man (of course ~ i just told you didn’t i)

the houses (of course)

memory’s noose soon (maybe)

but i’ll not hang about

anywhere

 anywhere

a word that frightened him

was everywhere 

never to go there or 

anywhere 

was

a pity

but there it was

that’s how it was

that’s how it is

he’d say every time

it was

again is it

 again is it

my poem

(i think it’s my poem)

it speaks to me but i don’t understand 

(is it my poem)

what is it all about

(then i get it)

special delivery by airmail 

either the aether sent it or

i have imagined the whole thing

(surely not - voice off stage)

there it is again