Friday, August 29, 2014

Listening Through My Separator

Travelling along Forest Ridge
Also known as the Winged Eel’s Tail
Sometimes called The Devil’s Bridge
Or the Dandelion Moonlight Trail
Often called the Pancake Trap
Also the Valley of Old Tin Cans
Where the chrome-winged bone crows flap
And Ant Man Bee makes jagged plans
I am listening to Trout Mask Replica
On the border of the Land of Frown
Listening through my separator

I think I need a lie down

Monday, August 18, 2014


Silver, a metal of mystery
Spun by the light of the moon
Not brash like gold
That’s spun in the sun
All heat and fire
An unsubtle metal
Soft and so easily unshaped
And undone

No, silver
Suggestive of rivers
Flowing into a midnight lake
Of clandestine meetings in forests
Of lovers impatient
For that first kiss
Of the magical light
That just before dawn
Grants you a wish

Oh, and smiling
Lots of smiling

And all of the love you can take

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Who Do You Think I Am?

(For Liz Brownlee)

Who do you think I am?
The Fount of all Knowledge?
The Fountain of Wisdom?
The Tap of General Information?
The Well of Understanding?
The Stop-Cock of Interminable Trivia?
The Spigot of Specific Information?

Who do you think I am, anyway?
The Spume of Curious Coincidences?
The Spring of Eternal Hope?
The Geyser of Self-Consciousness?
The Waterfall of Disappointment?
The Gutter of Good Intentions?
The Hydrant of Poetic Gentrification?

Who the hell do you think I am?
The Faucet of Unreliable Narrative?
The Hose of Sesquipedalian Verbosities?
The Storm Drain of Gushing Sentiment?
The Standpipe of Cloying Sediment?
The Spout of Poetic Declamations?

The Drainpipe of Dithering Ineptitude?