h o m e........
p a s t   i s s u e s....
s u b m i s s i o n s....
l i n k s






send me to the town’s

bruised core

to the late-night girls
caught out by the early sun

an implosion of grace

and the last owl tunnels home

the first magnolia opens

let me find

alternative routes lived-in dioramas
souls dyed in red iridescence

fag-ends attached to the mouths of brothers and sisters

like a born prodigal I walk

through kaleidoscopic patterns
that bedazzle paths

that keep halving quartering

curled up in my hand/ a message

stains and smells
won’t rub off

persons unknown read to me

amputations of sagas washed up on a beach



define the language

I practise against the convexity of a polished shape

and watch the closing gap

the cold touch
of mouth on mouth

the meeting of unlikely heads

entrancement beckons

today the black swans congregate
today voices

the bed and breakfast businesses
of December under a singing sky


much vaunted
much loved

a family comes to grief in a corrugated-iron shed

cheap haloes

like body parts are easily accessible


the family thinks about sainthood
their squalidness

the thief-cum-rapist-cum-deviant vicar
who looks after them

I move the mirror full circle

to determine what we are looking for



caught between the contact lenses

of a dirty weekend

with thoughts of being

a person sheathed within a person

I pass faceless dolls dressed up

for painting the town in bubonic splotches

(I offer meths fixers their wish lists

tumbling in a holy grail)

you walk the plank

as if I were there too

faceless in a crystal palace

you balance precariously

everything seems tropical

seems abundant

grows abundantly

exists under this curving shelter from the storm

I am your human handler
your human dogsbody

your make-believe role model in human fragments

always you’re in my sights
you wear a motto around your neck

you have one chance only

to save this green horizon

this maternal colossus

crawling on all fours
on broken ground

I balance precariously

amongst others

slick and shiny with no party to go to

no function to celebrate

a mass production of dolls

greets me without having to say so

they freeze their poses yet seem to watch

as I pass
prodding the air

the children play at executioners

at viewing their life-spans

and living off the pathogens of Paradise

constantly you’re in my sights

collaborative statements make all the difference one

applauds the other the other

tumbles through streets

fighting for pictures


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