Wednesday 17 June 2009

the blues empire

I got
me a lonely plot

and I built it.

from column a to column b,
rolled out like a canopy,
the monopoly on misery,
the blues empire.

girls up against words,
TKO-no-contest.

I was here first
with trademarked hurts,
copyrighted curses

and verses
with patent pending.

reserves of misery
that are never ending.

and I,
I will stick my oar in.

and send my profits soaring.
soaring,
soaring,
ssssoaring.

the sun hit bellecour, rifles won't stop singing. j. moulin, nuns and monks offer themselves to the ether and "blue eyes" won't stop stinging. the rudderless plebs of the provinces. we tried to forget, but the scars won't let us, or the books. and so was born his generation's loudest voice, a word carpenter. sat next to an empty seat forever, staring into the irish sea forever, wondering if his…heroes ever felt like this.

pretence, pretence, pretence, to clearing out his desk. reduced to selling his bottled sweat on the internet. he's in his 3rd choice home talking loudly for everyone, sipping tapwater, straddling the typewriter. and when he's done his rotten, his rotting soul, smashes into the s..southern pole. and there..he ..thaws the….icecaps…….thawss., glacier NOIr and glacier..er ..bLanche,
and the rest of em.

it was blues man, it was blues.

Sunday 14 June 2009

pilot whales.

listen, please listen,
i dressed my message in the most appropriate rhythm.
a new wave of fisherman, name dawkins & hitchens,
winter and whiskeys will make for a swifter existence.

but don't lose yourself in prudence,
blubber has a million and one uses
and mammals move so gracelessly.
tonight, on the specials, i think...i think i saw you and me.

bring me my readers, i need to see the order of service.
blake's verse reversed, dickie dawkins' work rendered worthless.

whale, badger, fallow deer,
the magnetic pull of the cull.
population control became the black hole in my conversations,
i determine as i cut the beast across the throat.

and our hunter begins to wonder
if that cough he can't shift is stress or tuberculosis.
he'll pay for the things he says, like how
when he dies he wants to return to the earth as a plague.

I'M GONNA BUILD ME A HORSE three times the height of the angel of the north
and when the people look up at the galvanised steel skin they will feel exactly what i want them to feel.

bulldozer

put the boy out to stud.
he was born to draw blood from the ground.

in samelsbury i've seen a snowplough with no teeth
aching for a ding or a chip or a scratch or a dent or anything.

in the shadow of eurofighter/hawkteam,
tremendous weapons =.
but.
we don't make em, we just sell em.

and i'll turn the mortar into mist as cranes and diggers do the twist.
over in a corner health and safety man having kittens.


see me limp in first - walking with a common purpose.
i am aware that i am aware that i am aware that i am aware.

i may be bored but i can breathe easy.
as normally service is restored
i learn that peace is the only thing that can please me.


i've had some work done,
bumper stickers and racing stripes,
new stereo system.
my own mum only recognises me by the eyes.

but i am aware that i am aware that i am aware that i am aware that i am aware that i am aware that i am aware that i am aware
that i am aware that i am aware
that i am aware
that i am aware
that i am aware.
that i am AWARE that i am AWARE that i am AWARE
that i am aware, that i am aware. that i am aware.
that i am aware,
that i am aware.