Human Weather

Atlas trembles and a cold wind

blows in from the markets,

indexes precipitate; in China

a man kills a cockroach to eat

causing minor fluctuations

in the fortunes of the fortunate.

The traders are in a cyclone,

predictions for sporadic gloom

interspersed with frequent slumps

flash thunder across the floor;

fog on the super highway

is backing up inflation,

crashes are expected.

A thaw is not anticipated,

banks are about to burst,

experts admit that stability,

growth and general prosperity

are as likely as being able

to unstir a spoon of sugar

from a cup of coffee.

List

Visions of the emerald beyond

America eats its young

Countdown to ecstasy

What’s going on

Kind of blue

Katy lied
Clear spot

Pink flag

Secret treaties

Remain in Light

Another green world

Dark side of the moon

The hissing of summer lawns

The Favor

The mob did him a favor;

the suits wanted a word,

ask questions, let him know

how pissed off they were,

over and over again.

He deserved the suits:

the mob did him a favor,

killed him with passion,

under an i phone glow,

not with rhetoric and

the polite needle.

Branding

It

It’s not here tonight;

the thing you like,

an arrangement of this

and that, then and there.

Its been here before;

it will be here again.

You have to be there

to make it happen.

A particular you, not

one of the other ones;

a certain this and that,

not any old tit or tat

and something else

you can’t quite put

your finger on that

completes the thing

like rhythm, a word

with no vowels, as

well as the subliminal

component of harmony.

Memoir of a President

It was those nights,

driving down the track

in the back of a pick-up,

blatting at eyes in the bush

with an AK-47, high on weed

and whiskey.

Those nights back at the camp,

dub dancing to boosted speakers,

world poured through bamboo walls,

edge of the sky licked by fire,

women coming and going

            at the water hole.

One of those nights my voice broke,

I carved the cause in my flesh,

took a women from her work,

killed a man looking into his eyes,

laughed as he slumped with a whimper

not a cry.

It was on those nights of thunder and hope,

bullets skidding in mud, truck bed bouncing

over ruts, wet leaves slapping my face,

not these plush mahogany nights

of policy, compromise and utility,

that I felt free.

Prize Draw

We are delighted to announce

you have won nothing.

This wasn’t a competition,

the things you gained

were there for you to

stumble over.

The things you have lost

were taken because you

left them lying around,

the things you didn’t find

were there but you looked

in the wrong place.

The things you thought

you deserved but didn’t get

were on different paths;

your journey became easier

when you understood this

and gave them up.

In taking the liberty

of entering you in this prize draw,

we would like to state that

we are not liable for disappointment,

resentment, jealousy or any other

unreasonable expectation related

complaints.

Orgmanic

Aphorism # 4

Even by its own standards

humanity is strange;

having standards being

one of the things that

makes it so.

Early Closing

The staff would like to know

if the store will be closing early

as they want to take part

in the rioting and looting.

Miss Shufflebottom could do

with a flat screen TV, Mr. Smyth

requires an upgraded i pad,

young Rodgers craves an xbox.

The shelf stackers need to lay in

some household goods and tinned food,

the makeup girls are all eyes lined up

on a floaty little thing in monsoon.

It’s widely rumored that the Police

are understaffed and demoralized,

the prime meddler goes sockless in Tuscany,

the mayor is making merry with the media

and they felt that a rare opportunity,

to take advantage of the system

that usually takes advantage of them,

was presenting it self.

Aphorism # 2

It ain’t rocket science,

in fact, these days,

rocket science ain’t

     rocket science.

Blue Blue Windows

Aphorism # 1

Wisdom is innocence
arrived at through
     experience.

Ambrosia

You are the mint sauce of god,

the piquancy that makes

the mundane meat palatable.

God cannot live on bread alone,

a plate of gravy is required

for mopping mutable mater

in soggy white sliced.

Predator

The Night Amy Died

The night Amy died;

it was Janis night,

Jimmy night, Jim night;

a lady smoked a cigar

outside a bar, had her

shoes delivered by car.

The light that burned,

so bright, got turned off;

it was Nina night,

blue moaning night,

no irony lost on the

punch drunk public.

Roll over long servers,

well behaved timers;

its was Amy night,

she entered on a bang

and like we all will,

exited on a whimper.

Hacked Off

Never been phone hacked,

never had a sword to fall on;

like never being stalked,

a bit of a disappointment,

a failure in some way.

Not a municipal figure,

not stupid or greedy,

don’t need the impossible job,

the polarisable public

on side or on board,

just getting on with

the unasked for adventure

squeezing what exotic foam

the sponge will dribble, into the

communal washing water.

Kind of Red

Tennis

Who would have thought,

just after the big bang

you would get tennis and

tennis players, their girlfriends

and grass, so well behaved,

the ball, going in one direction

one second, then in the other

the next.

There was no plan back then,

the cookie just crumbled.

There are plenty of plans now;

like tennis they come from

no plans being made at the start;

not extensions of an original intent

but what happens when there is

no intent.

Why it went this way and not that,

why we have tennis not something else,

what was particular about that detonation?

It looks to us like there was a plan;

tennis looks like design not accident,

we see it through a neat and tidy screen

when really it is eggs braking

in an earthquake.

For the Benefit of Your Doubt

I'm a strange attractor when alone.

The rest of the time I’m just my self,

edited for your consumption, censored,

seasoned and soused to suite your palette.

In a lot of senses I don’t exist;

I am dark mater, dark energy,

undetectable by current instruments, 

apparent only through bent starlight.

My true nature is beyond the scope

of comprehenders; it is a singularity 

at a four in the morning red light 

with no other traffic on the road.

I’m eating my words here, rolling

my tongue round the limits of my

universe, enunciating so you can

negotiate my gravitational pull.

I’m a gentle force who wouldn’t want to

split your focus, put you through a prism

of misunderstanding, trap you in a spectrum 

of convention limited imagination.

But I am persistent and I demand your

experiment takes into account that I will 

behave in an uncertain way determined 

by the attention to detail deployed.

Nothing is decided and if you close

your microscope or shut off your

accelerator I will persist in colliding

with unregistered exotic particles

and continue telling the shadows, 

behind the wheelie bin in the dark ally

by the traffic junction where I wait

for a red shift to amber, all about it. 

Ellipses

Mandala

Mind Key

Quantum Entanglement

Underpass

Caterpillar

Orerry

Une Hommage de la Pomme de Terre

Rope Dancer

Pork Pie Hat