Saturday, 21 March 2015


The grass is growing and the happy bellies
The seasons of harvest and plenty are close at hand
The next notables are in gestation
Legacy after legacy incubating
And my friends have no use for me now
As their occupations multiply, nourished at the mortar root
The piled sheaves are depleting and these distortions are longer a happy wasteful product
Seasons have come and passed and the scripts persist
Some things fall apart, some stick and in the schism I exist
And my friends have no need of me; they never did, reclining on their porches, watching the sun set
Whilst I have so much need of them

single file sentinel

Assume the rhetoric of the Single file Sentinel
Crowd control make over Discipline punish
Paper envelopes below standard operation
Missing privacy prevents progress
Hearts bleed for the poverty of the man on the radio
Choosing to forget the wealth of those sired
Parallel Talks where the Faces Repeat
One more for the Per Diem Carousel
Single Spark through undergrowth
Release projectile Lesson Manifest
Standby Assets Stand reduced
Day by Day Plastic Pallet Hellos
Networked Isolation
Circuits Blown Switches thrown
and no escape
Tarpaulin Currency
Shipped in pale chariots
Ghostly topping up their bronze
Gold Compress Black soon Blue
And the graves stay unmarked
And the innards exhale
Orange gurney expiration
 Another round for the Laminate Crusaders
Thinking too much
Or too little
Not moved to sever the stifling cord
Symbols on thighs might signpost
The synthesis that fuses and negates
These prickly contradictions