Trawler for Ash

Never let the frost bite.
It’s a smite.
But look at us like.
We’s bitten.
Between you and mes?
Fair seas.

Mods MKIV

Sweat.
Patina.
The under arches
Of a Ford Cortina.
The rain lets in
Mark two, three, four-uh
This is the
Backwards world.
For which we
Are pourer.

Masque of the Half Full Glass

And there they gathered
In darkened rooms,
Of wood and glass,
Masquerading as
Functioning human beings.
Places like this
Are great for blurring lines,
Of us and we and they and me.
Is it a community,
Below the disfuction room?
Is it a post-family necessity?
Is it below the tight belt
Of the name
Above the threshold?
Believe.
At the hostelry
On the Cally Road,
You can bounce
Cheques,
But never leave.

Europe Still - A Haiku

Europe is not still
Forever active come what may
We’re still in Europe

Sierra Nevada

When Sierra Nevada
Fell off the wall
The locals couldn’t believe it
At all
The aluminium and plastic
Hit one radge
Right between the imagination
And between the restless natives
Unspilled
Rested a beer brand badge
In gassy stasis
And his mind
Ran to the hills

Baldy Bastard Takes His Hat Off in the Pub

Baldy Bastard
Takes his hat off
Baldy Bastard
Needs a haircut
This life
Is getting thin
But this size
6 and 7 8ths
Has more swag
In it’s vantage spot
Than all yous lot
So together
Find your necks
Wound in

I used to get paid to cook for people

Everything I eat
Is pizza flat
It’s true that
Each within a variety of stages
Screened for knives
Or lack of dreams
Or imagination an’ that
But hands made these dishes
With too much chilli on it
So I win
Fact