there is nobody now
can claim
they have a right
to put hands on me
not that they held
any of that ever
more their definitions
of my being
are dead with them
too
it is impossible
to live
be
free’er
than that
Month: May 2017
cards to keep
we can sell you
a christmas
easter
birthday
wedding
you name
you got it
experience
it will cost you
pockets deep
with mementoes
flowers, balloons
& cards to keep
we do this everyday
being professionals at this
ah
but you
you want more
wanting feelings
needing a reality that bites
desire encounter
some meeting of minds
love, care
& we have to tell you
for that
the price
is very steep
Fado
All youf music
is Fado now
the breathless voice
catching
in sorrow
at the back of the throat
the descending piano chord
guitar in minor key
plainting
pleading
for some love
near
yet so far
& on it goes
Send me E.T
For I have things on my mind
that only good blotter
window pane
or microdot
could help with the thinking of
these modern chemists
have no love
no deep spirit of wonder
all the class A taste
at the back of the throat
& ………..
& nothing of wonder
so send me some
ergot titrate boys
lets whoop it in the spirit of ‘66
before Leary killed the beast
the CIA used the mob
& ………..
& forget all of that
send me the bathtub chemist
a prankster or two
for there is thinking to do
avoiding the axe
with the dial on 35 degrees
it is difficult to think
of ordering the winter wood
to be split
ready
when the dial hits 2 or thereabouts
even harder to contemplate
the swing of the axe
make it thud
thud
thud
cleaving round logs
into quarters to fit the fire
come December
a start must be made
for these too to sit in the sun
drying out
stacked
temporary homes for
beetles
lizards
& the wasps to take their nibbled share
create their paper drays
ice rattles now in my tall glass
as winter ice will shatter my bones then
for now the sun warms me
creates these lazy days
hazy in the shade
under the high trees
also avoiding the axe
Les anglais/rosbifs
The English abroad
in their pale skins
cotton top hair
hours
that slight half smile
thin acknowledgement
nod in recognition:
yes I have noticed you
but please for gods sake
do not say hello
for I wish to pass as a native
not understanding
their fawn
beige
taupe
stone
colour clothing
white feet in birkenstocks
signalled rosbif
from deux kilometres
away
lives we know nothing of
These lives we know nothing of
people spilling out of church
on a hot Saturday afternoon
after a christening
as the heat reads 35degrees
all in suits & pretty frocks
le midi
france profonde
as we sit sipping Meteor beers
while the swifts wheel the sky
catching bugs mid flight
men in whirling moustaches
offer bonjour
walking into the bar
we will never know of these lives
encounter them
their back stories
cris de coeurs
maman’s
gran’papi’s
bebe’s born to etrangers
so we sit & murmur to ourselves
for the beer is good & cold
much like our ignorance
of such existences
alone
I am not alone
we have the internets now
more porn
pix
dox
directions
alt routes
all in our pockets
(provided the battery lasts)
can call any customer desk
anywhere on this planet
for help/guidance
on anything
for a fee
or agreement for advertising
your laptop will spy on you
ditto the phone
the sat nav can take you anywhere
its satellite mothers footprint
can cover
while road cameras
collect your presence
for reasons you have
no need to know
I am not alone
enjoying all of these things
though I wonder
what happened
to the perfect isolation
artists used to need
coffin club
That little cough
a small half cough
that men have
do
when they are doing things
around the house
the world
to let the family know
others
that they are still there
or could it be
to remind themselves
that they exist?
I find I have it too
now that I am older
when it began
I have no recall
or of its purpose
welcome to the
coffin club
A moment in parisienne time
time would be about 5
the light was low
I was nursing my café creme
watching the traffic slide by
the usual ballet of speeding cars
mopeds & pedestrians
the soundtrack being beeping
muffled curses & gallic waves
I was thinking of nothing
except how the evening would be
how to use what little money I had
to its best advantage
when over the road at the fromagerie
I saw a parisienne matron
late sixties
haute couture clothing
coiffeured to the top
shoes that cost more than I could earn
& a dog
a little white sniffy poodle thing
all nose in the air
& look at me attitude
madame stopped at the open counter
began to inspect the boxes of cheese
monsieur (the proprietor) rushed out
aah madame z, how are you
& how is little sniffy?
Madame inspected every box in the display
as Monsieur opened every box with a flourish
this is from x out in provence
it arrived today by special train
this from b in Lot et Garonne
is one week old & ready for your special palate
sniffy sat
looked up
& madame picked her up
continuing to inspect
these new cheeses with her fine nose
my coffee grew cold
I did not care
this was street art
pure entertainment
enthralled
as she smelt every fromage in the premises
after thirty minutes madame z finally spoke
thank you monsieur
but I will go to monsieur m today
I am sure he will have something for me
& with that
sailed fifty metres along the boulevard
& began the whole process again