CRITICAL MASS:

Stick some mods in the middle, some symbols of Peace & Joy,
flying high, timeless licks. I feel like I’ve jumped in the back seat.
Mind if I jump in the front & try something?

(K)

THOUGH YOU MAY THINK I’VE FORGOTTEN, I HAVEN’T, HONEST, CHECK THIS:

Who’s that walking, tears in the morning? Rush, there’s sympathy in
brand new trainers, purple laces, diamond ears. Shelters from a chill
wind, gathering messages, oblivious at the cross roads. Face in a Pink
cap glances in at the window, thinks it recognises the face on the
other side. Does a double take, keeps on walking, locks it’s wheels to
a post on Margaret Street where all the messages today are air-born.

(K)

A LINE BETWEEN A BANG & A HISS:

A white van reversed,
A face on a stick,
A stick in a fist,
A fist sending messages.

An open door,
A warm welcome,
A flash of lycra,
A hand held to an ear.

A smile leaving a building,
A big man dressed in Pink,
A stagger,
A stare.

A pocket full of receipts,
A finger itching,
A sign for men & women,
A fellow member of the stripe clan.

A slow motion driver,
Another one in lycra,
A hunter,
A close cropped haircut.

A nervous driver,
A bouncing walker,
A confidence,
A clean cut.

A smile walks in,
A fist in a pocket,
A drifting phonecaller,
A sockless shoe.

A chain on a bag,
A doll in a pram,
A mother’s stress,
A bandage on a wrist,

A French stick broken,
A confident father,
A tribe of children,
A redvan driver.

An iron jaw,
An undefined sexuality,
A leg of three stripes,
Another mouth talking to a hand.

A glance,
A fleeting thrill,
A plastic bag of love.

(K)

SLEEPWAKER:

Sleeper sleeps, Waker wakes, the names, the voices gone.
Do us a favour, turn the noise off!, obsessions of the mind.

This is a message, a marker in the road, a signpost, a traffic cone.
Don’t curl up in a ball, don’t duvet dive, the magic is on it’s way.
Don’t get Holy, don’t grit your teeth, this is only conversation.
Don’t get heavy, don’t over think, laugh, look, a swagger!

(K)

FUZZ GUITAR:

Massive destiny,
United change,
The questions.

Vision,
Slow motion,
Ready wrapped.

Stir it up with a thin stick,
Bring the heat across the line,
They’re queueing up to get some.

(K)

IS IT COMING?:

Is it hot or cold? Oh, it’s cold. I was hoping it would be hot.
Not so hot it burned, but just enough to feel good. Where did
the heat go?

(K)

PLAYING WITH HIS PHONE:

A yellow-faced snake slides out from a dirty wall.
A china-faced girl walks like a doll.
Cranes carve arcs overhead, hooks baited with brutal concrete.
Re-imaged theatres breath through curvaceous silver tubes.
Old buildings eaten alive by Elder.
A stadium.
A church.
A Cathedral.
A tribe defined by colours.
A box container jungle.
A footbridge bridge of rusting Victoriana.
Weeds & steel.
We’ve arrived!

(K)

A DOLL’S HOUSE:

Two purple plastic flamingos in the window, kissing, trackside
without stopping. A story of home birds, written in a fancy hand
for a touch of class. A valley of cows glimpsed at speed, comedy
blobs of black & white on green. One last remaining factory chimney
bursts out of the earth, a brick baby bird, face upturned, suckles
a nipple with crusty lips. Razor wire dances along the tops of walls,
surgically precise with intent. Numbers on sticks nest in Autumn brier,
cables sheathed in asbestos runs alongside our steely twins, ducks
beneath bridges eaten alive by Elder. A dirty rocket slips out of town,
reveals the solitary chewing man suddenly exposed – Buster Keaton cool.

(K)

TWENTY SIX THOUSAND MESSAGES, EIGHTEEN UNREAD:

Cowboy commuter,
Sunlit statue,
Sticker on the knee,
Face of stone,
Disapproving stare
From the luxury of history.

Silver Dragon boy,
Wired to a pocket,
Branded,
Arrives like a tourist,
Target,
Keep moving.

Cuban heeler,
The woman,
The strider,
Strange legs,
Strange action,
Violent Pink.

Banana boy,
Talks sideways,
Walks sideways,
Cigarette finger,
Grins,
Carrying the hot stuff,
Star.

(K)

GROWING A PAIR:

Two-fisted coffee,
Unshaven cruiser,
Iron jaw the watcher,
Keeps moving.

I’m goin’ places me.

(K)