Monday 17 August 2020


Brass fox horn on bony excrescence
going home broken flumes of sad pat
having the whip hand shroud in ranunculus
rose heavenly the gold cup of reason
or quenched black versions pissed in spasm 
to rebid love unworthy done for marigold,
I carry with me long run
into imagined voices clogging a vogue
heart to share-hold 
a gastronomic life is of no real importance
in these dithering starres 
S.O.S the milk gravy
cry out in vain brotherhood,
the toxic monster is on his wetting stone
in morbid psychology with no more tonics
to antiquate I now leap to rue vue 
no sharing now and never again 
this planting on each others stands, 
or known in backwash departee 
punched out protecting the currency
in your played pair of Oxford fakes
the shoe box rammed with
mad cash the money by grab dredge 
all over the walls all over the floor 
in the heights of tide in the chartered depths 
off your neck the earnest bounce 
makes a blind enchant boll at crown 
now dole walla, 
to find another coeval in den
on cobbled tooth spent to last 
the draft horses of day