Monday, 23 December 2013


chasing phantoms 
empty phantasies

coffee burning his
cigarettes smoking his
lights flashing in his 

the reality has become 

Wednesday, 16 October 2013


henry where are you now?
I fucked her inside you
more than once dear henry
the other one nearly ended you and I made
you run run run so far
but you've done that so many times already henry
I can tell that just by looking at your features
when are you going to quit henry I know its
not up to you but ultimately
that's all you have henry and we didn't even see it
the road is your home and you
are its king, Henry.

Thursday, 13 June 2013


waiting for your axe to grow
gods on peddle boats chasing eggshells round the cattle market.
old women stop to tell the time and beg for food.
neat lines of school children on each side of the highway.
plaster their faces around town, not a looker among them.

waiting for your axe to grow
scooters with training wheels spreading fire retardant necklaces.
gallons of chai chai chai chai chai.
handlebar mustaches.
brown skin and socks full of sugar.
foxes of fury consigned to old buses constructed from German ideas.

waiting for your axe to grow
the toilet is down the hall but is no more than a deep dark hole
- your shit passes from one black hole to another -
but we do have bum showers.
seems we can forget time for times sake.
hard to impress the bagel man these days.
hes got no solutions for the environmental questions you dropped by the snake pit.

waiting for your axe to grow
garnish your own life with flowers before helping others with theirs.
watching spunk bubbles skip across the lake.
in hell the beer is cold but it tastes of vertigo.
we'll wave at each other as we pass and swap pistols and watches.
can't say I have ever been woken up that way but it was wonderful.
pages 145 to 195 are gone.

waiting for your axe to grow
the past is here, the leaves still fall and lillys still float.
the children suck lolly pops as father fucks horses before each race.
you'll get bitten hard if you go down to the shores.
take the boat, its faster than smoking up rain storms.

waiting for your axe to grow
in hotel lobbies buttoned up in pear orchards.
millions of eyeballs rippling across the mountains.
there are so many colours.
I'll tell you how to say my life vest is drowning.
only on the journey out as by the time you come back they'll have your money.

waiting for your axe to grow
backbase and what the backbase wants.
at this altitude my balls start to tingle when they touch your face.
such a beautiful place.
innocent curiosity and a distinct lack of thought.
the chimp in the dress has pissed on the carriage floor.

waiting for your axe to grow
watch your feet gents.
no one body knows how to get there.
I shall see you up north where the ladies shave their ovens.
wasps in the post office but the clerks don't give a toss.
your mother used to sit here.

waiting for your axe to grow
just a tiny nibble.
boxes of hoofs lit with hate.
sunshine bouncing off her breasts.
give a laugh and help push sincerity from the map.
none of your type aloud to make trees grow past your sitting bones.

waiting for your axe to grow
white shirts in back pockets mixing pencil shavings and no smoking signs.
meet me round the back.
draconian measures fly like spent nappies.
across tea plantations the spirits are lifted.
a right teapot and nutty driving with the lights off.
some strokes take your teeth and polish them up for grannies wake.

waiting for your axe to grow
ice coffee and the artists.
my wife is crying.
throw your hands up towards electricity wires.
sticky fingers caught in fishing nests while the newest guest injects in front of the television.
plan your new move and how to say goodbye.

waiting for your axe to grow
the ending and faces in time.
carpets that cover up those bad deeds and the French.
nick nacks follow ass cracks from one station shaken up and burned through.
balaclavas on tiny sculls.
odd uniforms and extra long naps.

waiting for your axe to grow
urine therapy.
the smallest strawberry you have ever seen.
aspergers's cocktail.
collect green cards and brush your teeth with twigs.
pulling out the sugar cane.
push the button with the arrows and
drag your feet.

waiting for your axe to grow
couch beds and artist head.
I whisper in a mouses ear before she takes me the prostitutes quarter.
no real friends, its 
paper Ghandi they desire.
friends are white,
she is afraid of him.
I disagree. 

waiting for your axe to grow
falling was much to easy.
I was built for mountains, though
not these daft things. 
strangely shaped balding heads.
their asses roll quite perfectly.
sleeping on matted shag as the desert slams through the window.  
a child with too many teeth tries to touch my feet,
and I realise I miss her. 
altitude is a loveless bitch.

waiting for your axe to grow
one hand across your heart, the other on the penis.
the stool from your eyes 
may stain hair, skin or fabric. 
beautiful calls to prayers. 
the bastards have made it too sweet. 
Himalayan hair cuts.
I left my lime green underpants in London. 

waiting for your axe to grow
spark one up on an aeroplane .
what have I come to find here?
the only Scotsman for a hundred miles. 
mistakes mistakes mistakes mistakes.
standing in a third world country
as the tanks roll in town.
I was told there would be shit tickets.
come to stare at a building. 
you'll not recognise me these days
 waiting for your axe to grow
what was it all for?
you can't defecate by the kerb
in this place.
ain't any of that shit here ma' boy!
digestion contemplation these
things last a life time because we're all
waiting for your axe to grow

Tuesday, 14 May 2013


You there!
Round hole
peg square
gangsta wrap:
film (cling to
dat film)
been used to
sheeth a
run bitch Run!
Purpose supplied
honour relied
porpoise denied
there will
beaching here
no more truther-
hur Hur
no sir
ben hur
Neil Young
and tuna peace
breakfast time:
it's motherfreaking break

Saturday, 13 April 2013


what is this I
see before me
why it's a
curled up on
the door
mat with
the flowers;
tide and
hit him with
the sucker
monkey sticks
two ripe bananas
and a couple of
this is late
night riding
horses & stars
tip toe-
ing the line,
a rock face
and fifty years

Sunday, 24 March 2013


We rise in
spring to not
be surprised
at the utter
lack of it
all. Snow
drops on fire
bears for
(he who dares, nature
En-snared )
being ruined
by the spite
of the nose
eating the
face and
buckets full
of rain
washing up
wards to
wards a kidney
shaped hole
that we
hope it
will all squeeze
in to.
this is
disgusting this
filth of progress
a steady cock
thrust 300
years long
into the soft
teary eye
of an eco
that lifed us
but now
bleeds all over
our shiny metal
rod. the shame
of it all
will not
be lost on

Saturday, 23 March 2013


20 feet away from a brick wall
your laughter cannot hide
the fear you hold
deep inside
naked giants fight one another
over our illustrious
the folk go about their
business; the
butcher the baker the
receptionists the doctors the
rapists mothers beggars music
makers and the lonely lost and
confused lovers and ex-lovers.
its getting closer to my
reality -
10 feet and
the safety measures
will deploy
yet doubt stumbles
through the mist
and tells me this
airbag may
white hot silver
trees falling
and singing to
everything in the air
she looks like a
ray of sunshine
a glowing piece
of heaven
visible just in time to stop
the mortar of my mind
dissolve these thoughts
and experiences.
a cocktail with my name
on it
if you may.

Tuesday, 12 March 2013


go find the
spider and
beside her

he sang on
a cold
wet bus to an
old wet

burning all
his money
in the
back of
his field

and then
jumping in
to traffic fo
ur lanes wi

Monday, 4 March 2013


it really is
indicitive of
your dick
initiative or
flowers flower
and gradually
the lazy eye
and greets the
it's still cold
in the shadows
but sparkling
in the
the dust
bursts and the
beauty in the
of the great
beholder (an-
other year
look me in
the wild
eye and watch
the waists and
daisies re-
appear for
the first time
since we
found that
avenue of
old pine
where the
fuck and
the season's

Thursday, 21 February 2013


this is something
I never
want to
and I hear
you're going out
there, to
prospect for
gold and
my tooth
howls beneath
the black cloth:
an island in
the eb and
flow of
time and
and I wonder
if I should
pack up and
follow suit
or if I'm
even capable
of such an

Monday, 21 January 2013


our nations capital
magnificent views, old time
movie night number CVII
lacking floppy hands but

we four gather
a breast a piece
and a one pizza
breaded, baked, devoured

see how far the light carries
as if it were day
shout at the passer by
they're ignoring what we say

doing jobs in
five out of the seven
floating flakes
as big as your face

these guys
we love what they play
they let us down
with not a reason for it, I

can’t wait to shoot you in the face
over and over again
thumbs moving fast
nimble little digits

brought the gear
invitation only
party, lets get rolling, an
unprecedented unappreciated skill

creating little sticks
stiff white dicks
light up and pass it on
smoke that stuff till its gone

big dollops of custard
right into your brain
lets not slow down gents
time to be business-like

votes being cast
nail your choices to the mast
no repeats of films past
times a ticking need to choose fast

this poem
a sprawling beast
can't capture that night here
but its a start, at least

can't stop thinking
about what they keep secret
ain't never licked a bum hole
though sometimes I can lie

its the way we're made
you got to move, these
females are enchanting
its the way they're made

the effort
glad you made it
security supposed to keep us safe
snowy balls at our knees

the two barb quickstep
they approached us, how nice
covered up my frightful indecision,
nonchalance unintentional

tell me straight, if
she started kissing you, if
he asked for a dance
you know why you know that

cos your just the same
ticket to nothingness
lean close, need to get a photo
all for prosperity / a space on the fridge

say you make it
than take it but
it all depends

its those damned years
yes these,
pesky things I keep right here
gleamed up and sitting back home

the ground has been covered my
friends are always the subject
fresh faces help
getting some lookers in too

but its been my thing
now its dropping off
sadly I can't help but
shy away from the new

if i'm in the mood
if its a special event
if your my new subject
tell me why don't you

what they need to make them interesting
is an injection
of time
that makes the mundane exceptional

oh what's your story friend?
first ever new tat of chemical reactions
that ain't it
I'm sorry to say

what you got there is another rep

not the real thing
not by a long way
I never did say

can't be signified that way
its bigger than what you can fit
on that forearm

came out tonight
got down to your
favorite place
coming up aye?

two more beers please
I forgot the drugs
we don't need em'
we'll just down these

more bodies and some that
even come with bouncing breast
slinky dresses cover rib cages
everyone wants to look their best

we’ve all got genitals
in this cavern
can you guess where mine are?
right up in your face

who invited sugarman?
here is not the place
for you deserve to be given
our complete attention

can you spare me some cutter
me brother
needs a wee fix
a shinny penny polished with our dicks

a smoke, a ciggie
can I bum a fag?
do what ever the fuck you want
just don't be a drag

hair just like that
song stuck up in the gears
cute little smile,
perfect round ears

what you doing here
classic conversation starter
a student? well,
let me guess your nationality

to be honest
lets go back to your joint
I want to take off your clothes
and watch you fall asleep

a tasty wee gin helps
move pacman around
muchin wee round pills helps
put his daemons in the ground

yes we are having fun
the beats pound around our rectums
phat bassy soldiers in a Trojan horse
some places this is frowned upon

welcome to the new religion
Jesus died for our sins
that guy should've been a DJ
then he could have died for our spins

still goin' strong
don't know what's brought it out of me
lightning dripping from your finger tips
to your itty-bitty toe

its the rest, the
others that we all want
victory tastes even better if they're in
possession of a cunt

almost at the end
though it really finished
not too long
after we arrived

what did we achieve
in reality
had another smoke
hugged another friend

a cushion of air was my bed
THC a cushion for my head
one more drops like a fly
banters good, all in all a great guy

now what about these
masterful poets
singing their songs of love and
life and woe

pulling away the curtains
surrounding you soul, it
ain't pretty - it sure is not nice
but you've got to see what you sacrifice

these words can be said
you or I or little Timmy
we know them already
they're up there already

I'm going to be leaving soon
where the water tastes like moon
shining on sheets of liquid glass
and the sun gives you all big yellow ass

see you in the morning
in a number of hours
let me get down and shut my eyes

what was Spud doing there?
Duchamp, Marcel
the man was a genius
Fountain, 1917

dam smooth coffees
seen with beautiful eyes
of artsy talk
Tracy Emin rubbing money on her fanny

what a day to be alive
getting longer in the tooth
where are we now
just walking the dead

it will be missed
one day
even the car
didn't want to leave

so now you've reached the end
been quite a struggle
one self-tought lesson
is that everything echos

you will see it again
in some form
or another foster mother
blood brother or the loved one you smother

rhymes are alright
but these times are gonna be
the nuggets of thought
in the nursing home, on the hospital bed

that makes you smile but
makes you sad - its all gone,
enjoy it while its there
yolo man, yolo

it was a night out of
countless many
others will be better some
maybe worse, still

goodbye, it has
been quite nice.
lets do it again
maybe even twice.


why frank
its time to fire up
the salary-man 2000
stand him up
grind him dow
n: really render him
into sausage
foaming at the
a company man 'til
he dies.
give him lunch

and then:

packin up the
meat grinder
filing away the
cheap binder
let's all do the
sleep finder
roll up
roll up
punch out
go home
witicism on fire
another salary-man
for hire.

Sunday, 20 January 2013


our 21st century
recreation sensation,
drinking beers over chicken
and pizza
shooting one an
other right in the face
stalking through the
corridors of power
then emerging onto balconies
to get high at the
(and here we really dawnder)
up into the beating heart
that filthy start to
a night.
boogy nights
spanish beer
tight shorts
free fags
dub step
not yet.
(stuff happens, then after a
we sail home through
blankets of white
with little red creatures
following behind
wondering just what the
hell we're playing

Thursday, 17 January 2013


machines and curves of fleshy mounds
sitting in cafes pouring earthy delights
between pearly whites. let me tell you
the truth.
I have your head in my hand, I
can move it there and
here. white knuckles

strike you
just above the ear. objectified anger
come on get up, you love a bit of drama

the elephant entered before you even knocked.
he barged in and
squeezed your wife's tits
before defecating on the cat.
then you and the rest of the herd

even realise. fists
into your belly and knees
into soft gaps, you
but I am louder. you claw but my hands
are stronger.
a daily occurrence
its soft, its
and it scratches you under the
chin right
where you like it

gotta do what it says.
see, I'm just helping
you out. getting to you first
before those
bastards have slid down your
ear holes and licked your eyes
with glossy fantasies and
played mommy and daddy with
your balls.

smell of sex is
overwhelming in your mind,
you know where these dirty
thoughts are leading.
a few more kicks
to your guts
and we can be best

Tuesday, 15 January 2013


I take my fist and punch
the hard of my neck:
stars eventually appear and
I consider the light
as it reaches my eyes
(surprise surprise prize of the eyes stars of the lid)
until a single black dot rolls in,
the shiny full stop
blown south from the mouth
of a great great novel:
return to bunker hill has
been left without finish,
the little punctu
sweet damnation
containing everything good
that man ever had to say.
a life times work goes
into that period:
let it bleed
and try not to get
any on the


and I say hey man,
your syntax is wack,
shallow and bruised and
way off kilter.
what business have your
fingers there,
being there
on those sweet sweet
tapping like you know it all
tapping like a mother fucker
text message poems
best dressage sowing
stupid smile in your big
ol beaker
go squeak her
come seat her
and stop referring to times
and places unspecified
circles not in boxes
boxes piled on boxes
your hand in the glove
compartment of your
I'm addressing this to you
and all you've today
is rise
the gravy train
and let your wisdom
touchy knee
touch my knee


Sweet coffee pot face
sitting there on the chair
opposite me. where did you go last
night and what did you
see? I see sweet jism caking your
coat. you sweet hussy of the morn
the tie slips
a field passes
your glassy eyes
classy disguise
I don't like your suit
It doesn't suit you
and neither does that ridiculous
stop reading that paper,
go find the toilet
and sit there til I

Monday, 14 January 2013


perfect white
cast over everything in sight
yet I have to go
spend my time else


how far could I
get away
from here in the
time between when I start
and the
time when I finish?

the planes
taking souls to
glorious worlds
marvelous horrors

spinning disks taking everything
to the line where the sky
meets the earth and

all the possible things I
could accomplish while
standing in this hole.
is not the only one
that is
exchanged here,
the soft
flitting seconds
between breaths
of cold
fresh coffee cups
the heat from your
lovers lips.


Monday, 7 January 2013


gaudy peasants fill the streets
their tongue and
gait - an affront to my constitution

the rocky ground,
is but a smoke

these body parts
cannot be seen
but I am told they are
in there
as I am told the
people in charge have
my best
interests in mind.

its well trodden
ground that all the signs point

really, just have some tea and
sit down and
don't dare try
to change a thing.
after all, we've
been here long
enough to know what your
kind are up to

dry your eyes and
drink up

you are one of them