Tuesday 24 October 2023



A lamprey burns in the street

teethform a moonflower to monk poise

under rainchoked doorways

eyes that win against my skin

licking itches by themselves

a sacraments of mood stabilisers 

I decline again

& still not die

but eat the thorn

everyday alone, the thorn

on my tongue laying in my throat 

sacrum pierced blowflies

heavy body towed & to be made a mouth

gurgling of humiliations stone,

a hate of sucking hates

the spygash, the windows smeared the cracks

with my black sand inside 

a Samaritans phone box 

what is the passion of the footsoldier?

Your trenches? Colonel, what ends are you seeking

phosphorous from beer piss

to the consistency of Honey that glows in the dark?

leave it in the greyest of clemencies 

implored inkhorned copyists

to make the strength from guava, loaded

vanguards on the rocks from cloisters 

to Sussex Downs the genial line 

crashing out the Odd in Waterstones

today gets buried inside me 

a cloud of seditious lines 

anemone covered lysol rimes

& what for.