Innit

Innit just

Innit just?

No

That’s why

We do as such

Getting Pasty

The rain comes down
At London pace
Where they stare down traffic
Where faces replace the realisation
That I’m listening in
With moving feet
Where Roman Goddesses
Have etched their names
In manhole cover concrete
Past the pub that plays
Dada darts
I read restricted
Smoke extracts
Of headlines of the kind
‘Within the ‘25
The hate preacher must reside’
Where
Geezers in sandals
Real pigeon kickers are
Number 1 chains
In the knob head supply
Opposite
The quiet of
The American jogger’s
Whispered thanks
The cleaners make
Sweeping statements
And return them
To their banks
The Mini heads up
The parking display
Of inflated ego wars
And emasculated car lovers
Are planet killing bores
There are
Pretty girls in parkas
There’re lines
There’re lines for starters
There’re
Calling cards for
The few and the far
Between each leaf kicked
Each day
Is another dream tripped
Because science
Made it that way
The psychosomatic
Non-smoking coughers
Praise swelling bellies
And swelling coffers
Not realising
They spend it
On summat else anyway
A gig goer
Asks for a smoke says
Everyone says go
To Manchester
He asks
MDMA Ecstasy
I say go
You’ll love it
You can find that easily
Where they’re
Japanese adaptors
There’re not lenses
As the early seventies
Hangover alleges
I look like David Essex
But he’s not
A hand washer
He’s a hand washer’s son
And the eves drop
The stopped clock
Will call time on this fun
Where my glass is loaded
The doors lock
Cos they’re smashing
The pub up
Down the road
As these boots were made
For talking over
I look for words to borrow
I say manjana
To this drama
Doctor
I can see myself tomorrow

Masters of the Universal - Tanka

The Masters of the
Universal recognise
Men-at-Arms they don’t
Recognise you your struggle
Or give credit where it’s due

Seven Sides

There’s seven sides
To every story
There’s seven sides
To this
The coining it in
Coin a new one
And this one
Takes the piss

Here Come The Nice

Here come the nice
Young Sunday folk
Promenading from
Yorkshire pudding posts
To nut roast locations
The occasion
Any given Sunday
Hipster nods are subtle ones
As any edge
Is lost in the cost
Of that wax jacket
Elbow patching out
The time served drinkers
With identikit kids
And preposterous dogs
They homogenise
This square mile of
It’s all so very
Clean now

As they fennel
Their way indoors
To get jaws round
Yawnsome holiday catch-ups
Beneath saffron
Catch-of-the-day adverts
Scores of these
With armfuls of screamers
And bunting beards
With winking vintage ladies
Climbing tables
To get their paws on
The Crown

I pause and curse
This place
This time of day
Is far from wise
As over my drink
I extortionise
And leave these cats
To butterfly mice
I exit a swift one
A swift one’ll suffice
And by the door
I gift my advice
Watch the price of pints lads
‘Cos here come the nice

Oldham Outskirts Literary Review Tanka

The Oldham outskirts
Literary review brackets
Autumn edition
Closed brackets ends and starts wi’
Nah not for us bit arty

Pigeon Tanka

On politics shows
It goes the excuse holes picked
Like Sunday pigeons
Flawed and floored pecking peppers
From some Saturday night sick

Rocker Tanka

Another rocker
In my ear like your clobber
Rubbing wishes it’s
Hadda wardrobe less boring
Get some proper music prick

Blakey Lately

Casually
Grief
On the buses
Is a word
Set to Freud
On smartphone
Is writing as
Such
It’s not much
Of a leap
Between the grief
I intended
Lately
And the
I’m gonna get you
Blakey

Tin

In the dinning room
We presume
Three monkeys
There is fear
Over hands
Over ears
The god of tin
Puts it in us
It’s clear
Not vaguely
Sincere
As the soldiering
Iron uniforms stiff
The grenades’ left
Ringing in our ears

Heated Private Igloos

Heated private igloos
Keyed in coded mind brews
For sitting comfortablissue
Square and folded
Up scolded
And wet
Waiting for the warm storm
By counting
The drips
The size
Of a trip advisor
Despised by
The flip disguiser
As miserly
Two star reviews
Read by
Whogivesashit
And you

Springs Things - A Tanka

There are things there are
Things that swing there are rusting
Sixties springs where at
Worn out positions there are
Sat poking where you’re busting

Tottenham Hales

It’s all yeah yeah
Industrial estates
Where gathered lads
Say not that way mate
And yawning cats
Wide as the mark
As the distance
Of any welcome front door
Below a license plate
And you’re only
4 stops from where you started
From pebbled dashed
Long wheel transit
Parking places
And suburban
Broken rails
You can CCTV
For yourself
It never rains
But it always
Tottenham Hales

Ikeas Above Your Station - A Tanka

The sky’s Ikea
The D.I.Y.Bus stop’s not
The look’s pensive the
Idea’s cheap but not the
Sand timer that’s expensive

Plastic Smile - A Tanka

Extreme cold weather
Parka it seems that blanket
That wraps that’s been on
Each every dirty dance floor
Is falling apart at’ seams

Another Not A Sunday Haiku Coming Up

Here’s to tomorrow 

Come today we never did

Like you anyway

Cooper for Sayle

Salford John’s
Got a new motor
For sale
‘Ello!
“A Mini Cooper”
Says he’s nowhere to park
Says he’ll
Swap it for a copy of Arthur C.
Says he
If it starts

Le Pen - A Tanka

Le Pen Le Pen Shit
Le Pen Le Pen Le Pen Fuck
Le Pen Le Pen Shit
Thank fuck that Le Pen Le Pen
Ain’t mightier than I swored

Hotel International

Later
At the infamous
Hotel International
Where the freaks
Gather beneath
The floor to ceiling
Marilyn Munroe mirrors
And kitsch portraits
I agony-uncle
A lad from Saudi
He’s gay
He fled
‘Cos that’s not allowed
He said
He pours his heart
My mates take the piss
But it’s no joke
In his young abyss
How easy
I’ve got it
I thinks
Straight and white and
Full of drinks
While Sharia looks on
And Marilyn winks

Pre-match

Winter morning train

Excited seaside child's

hair was twirly
Drinking then wasn’t

For E & M Leydicke

The class
Is on draught
Von fass
As the hushed
And crafty conversations
Still waft
From the dusty
Sun cracked windows
Beaming on
Your glass
Of schnapps
Made from
Indiscernible fruit

Listen close
Above the
Bistro chair creak
In this perfectly
Noir bar
In the haze of
The over-proof
And you’ll hear
The root of 80s
East Berlin plots
As the rotunda
Polishes thick glasses
In his thick glasses
‘Bove a ruddy smile
In the eye-line
Tobacco haze
Do not make plans
You’ve been here a while
You’ll be here for days

Clobbered Up in A Barnsbury Beer Garden

The dough they have
But choose to wear
Autumnal
Olive
Beigey
Their hues are that of
Royal blues
And something
Close to Gravy

Shake!

(A Sam Cooke cover)

Shake!
Attack dogs round yer ankles
Shake!
They snarl and bite and nip
Shake!
They’re after the good folks and
Shake!
Folks who need their tips
Shake!
The top dogs are circling
Shake!
The squeeze is coming on
Shake!
They’re fixing up the figures
Shake!
They’re selling us for songs
Shake!
It’s about the cost of living
Shake!
So we came when you called
Shake!
To make the coins they stole
Shake!
Into your pockets fall
Shake!
Early in the morning
Shake!
We won’t go away
Shake!
Later in the evening
Shake!
‘Till It’s fair what they pay
Shake!
Early in the morning
Shake!
We won’t go away
Shake!
Later in the evening
Shake!
Till It’s fair what they pay

Anchovies - A Tanka

Out pop those willing
Joeys from the prep school purse
White anchovies who
Eyeball each other bet on
Number 10 and who’ll go first

Gear

Guilt n’ fear
Is the new gear
Spot this
Addictive
Don’t sniff
At the school speed with which
We didn’t care
In replication
The glue of this afterlife
Sometimes
Is the same
I swear

Haiku for conference season

It’s conference season
Blue blue blue blue bottle you
Got some but glottal