this chipped mug is mine

would you want to see
this older face
across the table in the a.m?
I recognise my charm
in the dark
between sheets
and your choice
in these things
at night
when we were excited
to do the bumpy thing
but now the heat is gone
its coffee and toast
will you want to see
this face again in the a.m
or will I be
another finger
in your lying memory
of lovers past.

youf, init

What else is youth for?
laying out under the stars
staring into space
scaring yourself
at how insignificant you are
knowing that nothing
you can ever do, say
will alter
the firmament
much like
your life
in front of you
will hold no meaning
for anybody
else but you
or possibly
a tiny circle
that you will create
which is
the tiny parcel of sky
you see as you lie
in the long grass
late at night


Poor habits
from my youth
catch me out
here & there
now & then
wanting to be out late
sleeping in hedgerows
home after dawn
drinking more than you
taking things not mine
wondering what drugs do
easing the day along
seeing how it all unfolds
not that I do these
much of late
& that in itself
makes life simpler
if not easier
& a whole lot


I got a gig writing education stuff
he tells me
pays by the yard
piece by piece
y’cant write fuck in those
I said
there’s no expression finer
I’m not worried about that
it means I get to live
get to write
get to put down words
get to get paid
and after all that
all that’s left
is a

some kind of arrival

I got there
It took
so much longer
so much more effort
so much more everything
from me
than I ever thought
and when I look back
over my raggy shoulder
you are no longer here
you are no longer there
you needed it quicker
you needed it easier
you needed someone else
and that’s why
you are no longer here
its not that I miss you
except on that odd occasion
when the slant light hits the glass
sunwise on warmer autumn days
and I reminisce
it’d be good to share
with your impatience
dreams are not impossible
that though
for those like me
whose journeys twist into long nights
stranger turns
even if I lost you
on one of those side roads
I don’t need you here


We were too young to have babies
tho’ the sex bit was very good
until she became pregnant
had been taken
we sat
talked the night through
decided that in this case
abortion was the only answer
I was broke
her parents catholic
we were not ready to marry
raise a family together
and then that happened
later she broke from me
because I was
not ready to marry her
raise a family
she moved on
but needed me
in odd ways
to lift furniture
help choose a dog
those things I could do
one night she called
would I come over
the dog had found a way
to steal from her fridge
so I went over
advised a lock
and tried to run away
but not before
she told me
she’d always loved me
I walked
rather than run that away
reeling on pavement
head full of madness
her need to create rejection
my inability to respond
the surrogate family
another friendship ended
such a narrow escape

A thousand million paper cuts

Pseudo intellectual
that’s what they called me
people who’d never read more than
the tv guide
mcdonalds menu
& really
it was all my fault
I shouldn’t have been
hanging with
with them
get off your high horse
was another
they hated that I read
could read
understand words on a page
try to apply
knowledge over emotion
marx held no friendship
for these people
he certainly
knew their purpose.


I’d love to see your face again
maybe one more kiss
that chance to say goodbye
like it really is
life doesn’t make it like that
your other choices
took you away from me
doesn’t mean I cant
think of you in better days
just being you
I didn’t know I was crying
until i felt the tear
rolling on my cheek
that’s how loss protects
holding me in numb
this isn’t about you
it is the many people gone
that I will never
get chance to love again

Swollen head blues

Times suckered in
‘you gotta think bigger
create something great’
& the ego trap collapses
all the way round
they do this to you for fun
because they too have lost
not through some idle badness
just the: this is what you must
are supposed to do
you don’t
I don’t
all we do have to do
is breathe
take life easy
at our own pace
savouring the little
sumptuous small things
we create
that come our way
leave the sweating the big stuff
to those with needy ego’s to fill
ours to be the lovers moment
sweet romance of the seconds
together as winds in the tree
not carved in stone for ever
those monuments rare
of a second glance in meaning
we recognise
it’s all only for a little while
not to waste
singing swollen head tunes.