SLEEPLESS ESSEX:

Woke at 3:30 busy words running loose inside my head.
Half finished sentences colliding, colluding, tormenting me every
time I roll & try to sleep. Got up, showered, to the World Service.
Took a camera for a walk in cool clean air, alone & happy in that
special place before the sun. Drove into town at the usual time to
find it running on skeleton staff, empty, a film set out of season,
spaghetti western, all the parking spaces free. Lone men looking like
school boys in washed out summer shorts sixteen seasons out of date.
I catch them picking turds out of the grass, one hand on the leash of
a small dog, the other in a small blue bag. Each one glances as I pass
offering a deal, a pact between males, never to reveal the fragile
landscape I see behind their eyes.

There’s a new girl serving at the cafe, no music, no mood, no smile,
no welcome recognition, no sandwich refrigerator illumination,
no breakfast club. Her face is switched off as she interrogates me.
And do I want milk with that & honey or jam, & will I be taking it
away or eating in? I’m undressed, exposed, apologetic, dirty.
The usual suspects don’t arrive to collect their orders, don’t hit
their marks or sing their greetings, exchanging customary pleasantries,
teaching me the etiquette of citizenship.  Nothing is the same,
everything is wrong, a town stumbled upon with it’s trousers down
behind the bushes. Only the cafe looks familiar enough, nut cold &
exposing it’s bones.

A few stragglers on the street looking dazed as I leave, glance
in passing at my appearance in jacket & jeans, trying to look like
I’m the only one here on legitimate business.

(K)

MEDITATION ON A COOL BREEZE:

Did you get the message?
Did you make a connection?
Did you get in late last night?
This morning?
Do you remember?
The leaving, running for rendezvous with…….somewhere else,
always on the move.

Home, two spoons, a knife & a fork in a silent way.

Blessed

(K)

TORNADO TALE:

The white, the glass, the waiting search, waking from a bad dream
& the one next door. The same piano playing random melodies, half
remembered, almost familiar, leaving through a door at the back of
the room. Shadow light legs & thrills, thinking about a train &
the next place. Bullet & the Mountain sky, head in the clouds.

“Did you see it this time?”
“Naa, it was chuckin’ it”
(K)

OSAKA SUMMERSONIC:

Rhythm of stripes
Rhythm of walking
Rhythm of a mouth not speaking
Rhythm of spoon
Of glass
Of look-around, cruising
Rhythm of voices in a crowd
Of silence
Rhythm of badge
Rhythm of name
Rhythm of too much fashion
Design
Style
Rhythm of trying too hard
Rhythm of easy
Rhythm of surfing the wave
Rhythm of a light in the dark
Rhythm of a hand reaching out
Rhythm of street
Of feet, passing
Rhythm of everybody going somewhere, nowhere, anywhere
Rhythm of a turning page
Rhythm of hand touching face
Rhythm of alarm calls
Phone calls
Wake up calls
Rhythm of remembering
Rhythm of time, inevitable
Rhythm of yesterday, forgotten
Rhythm of now, kiss my eyes
Rhythm of an old smile
A new smile
Any kind of smile
Rhythm of day of living
Fingers tapping, sending messages
Rhythm of tiny acts of kindness
No cost 
No consequence

(K) 

SUMMER SONIC:

Did you guess remote controlled lights concealed within balloons?

Be honest.

(K)

FANTASTIC JUICE:

This corner craves silence, the bill unpaid sleeps in a crack
in block of metal number nine. The voices of the ones that couldn’t
wait aggravate. Fragile morning. Emotional idiot.

NEW FORMS OF 36 GHOSTS:

Female ghost visiting a man.
Ghost warrior dispersing the revengeful ghosts.
Ten famous scenes from the story of the road.
One hundred views of the moon.
Rough tales of the floating world.
Pictures of fashionable dolls with eyes in the black shadows dimly.

Kirby Snow – ‘Troubles’

(K)

RUSH:

I’m numbered, surrounded by voices.
I’m shaking, up too lake, up too early.
I’m deluged, rapid messages received, wireless.
Hold my hand or something, anything.
Warmth of the human spirit.

Schneider TM & Kptmichigan – The Light 3000
(K)

TAX FREE:

A cheap hotel in the docks, a retired ocean Queen, Star Line,
heavy set, rich cream, floats redundant in the rain. Clouds come down
into the streets & cruise, gossamer cool. Giant octopus languish in
tiny tanks for tourists gawk & click. Restauranteurs lean back
smoking cigarettes, enticing tourists in from the deluge.
Everything smells of fish & incense. Noah awaits instructions.

Galcid – Hertz 

(K)

BACK TO HEART AND MIND:

Resurrection wind, wind blowing over the lake.
Solitary journey, spirit crossing.
Poem in praise of the sun, Rainbow fantasy.

A cube hollowed conically, light in the cave.
Sunflower at the lakeside, the spring of life, Kingdom of scenery.
Moon vision, stone boy playing with waves.

Summer, the sound of winds, I was…, I will…
Dream, Dance, in harmony with the stars.
Octagonal trapezoids waiting for colourless winds.

Pathward with the bride, revival, a moment of movement.
Moonlight, muse, Earth crust, primitive sea.
Residual stress surrounding mountain ridges.

Time, space, ship, signalling summer breezes, the revelation for Noah’s Ark.
Commemorative photography, the form of May.
Ring, Earth vibration.

Dancing ripples, surface of the wind, landscape with a portrait.
Circulation luster, playing with the wind.
Spring, shimmering winds.

Summer, beachward.
Autumn, all day long.
Winter on a starry night.

Riders In The Sky – Vaughn Monroe

(K)

DANCING AT THE TRAFFIC CONE SHRINE:

Some kind of spiritual axiom. Better than a lie of the mind
or a kick in the teeth.

As voices arrive falls silent with the news, hand-to-mouth.

Stone cold stone, not alone beneath a familiar street lamp.

A car emerges from the dark laughing, parks up, look away.
The night remaining innocent, trembles. Witnessing repeats.

Bob Dylan – Desolation Row (Alternate Take)
The Bootleg Series, Vol. 7: No Direction Home.

(K)