Monthly Archives: November 2015

End times kick –

I can hear them living in closing time, trying to keep it all, eighty-one percent still alive They haven’t thought to talk at death, facing front on coloured back phones, give out passed-about handwriting Graveyards love to greet anyone forgotten, … Continue reading

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Real Gull –

I never had a chance to wonder at golden ice-white eye-lined songbirds as they coloured high-summer English meadows with gospel choir lyric. I received a real vision of the World – On a nailed-down strong-box grey Scottish sky, from the … Continue reading

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Nazi Dinner Service Collector –

One mass of bone china one hundred thousand dollars clean plain, decorative plate’s expert eating, plate’s collector German white Investment ghoul sick Hannibal and Sigmund Gold-rush clearing plates from food stripper’s slow swastika debate

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Green, white and red –

No favours fell into their dirty palms, were severed by sharpened fingernails, they had Italian words for almost everything while forces said they looked like lots of others, but spoke inhumanly. Confusion mounted as days got longer, he took to … Continue reading

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Courting –

House and home, the coming in, courts and judge, repossession, dispossession, a gradualism, emancipation of the soul. Four days out started with a fifteen minute then a six-minute walk to join the long London queue for a justice seminar. All waiting, … Continue reading

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Man mixed-up –

I realised what the theme was, the one on my psychiatrist’s implant, said over and over again, over all the twenty sessions at forty quid ‘a pop!’ She told me she didn’t want to pretend any more, pretend she cared, … Continue reading

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Long song days –

And others just like yesterday, he had forthcoming Millennium days Decided to switch on a listen light, take in a Gaelic waulking song for a Confederate Yankee, Woody Guthrie on his headphones He was working on a back-to-back with 1939, … Continue reading

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The charity people –

November days at the Christmas soup kitchen Vagabond meals of vegetarian soup, that liquidated water, almost vapour Unclean souls wash their teeth with it, added flavour from parishioner’s anguish, any floating protein solids saved for the sake of all the … Continue reading

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Annie and her songs –

Annie and her songs Annie sung ‘The Old Rugged Cross’, Annie sung ‘Amazing Grace’, and maybe, I think, if alive still, looking at me from Tennessee with ‘Down to the River to Pray’ Annie, March 1901, born among others 1910, … Continue reading

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My good heart –

Photographs of pale brown Easterlies, third world exotic, sandal people moving uphill, slide-climbing, bio-mechanical negotiation of snow-capped mountains to speak with the Gods, gather vegetation, take home red meat, bury their dead, none of it excites me, doesn’t salivate my … Continue reading

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