a poem to redeem today

moaning gets me nowhere lyrically
except for sometimes but even then
only retrospectively

and moaning lyrically never tends to get
me anywhere else mentally
instead accentuates this plight of me
instead perpetuates this fright in me this
dread of me dead bored of me i self indulge



fancy that, what a day

bunch of reading /just now some bleeding
for lunch i had a pasta dish of which i’ve never heard of and
for dinner i had junk food on a whim and with some milkshake and
i found you and i kissed you in the pub and in your kitchen
over tea and over sheets and in your room and on your back
and on your arms /i smelt your hair and touched your hands and
cuddled you, you cradled me you told me how you’re jaded by
remarks on your good looks so i would say
so i would list if i could list if i could
just if i could say

you’re virtuous you’re truly good you’re whole and you are pure
attentive and perceptive yes attractive you’re romantic
you are special and i tell you so let’s hope that doesn’t jade you

and this is the first poem i’ve ever written about you so thanks for reading i guess


ate loads of em

vis-à-vis in relation to these /bless
u bless me with
regards to and concerning
and in terms of and in
the same vein in the
same school of thinking /sinking
shrinking ships i’m flickin chips
/disinterested, distinguished guests once
masticating now digest that
all you can eat chicken wing buffet/AKA
~wing(s?/ed?) wednesdays~

and guess what, i got honorary man o’ the match
yeah 26 wings knocked me for 6 n here i sit

keepin hydrated/stomach gyrates from
inflation n even these sea
faring legs can’t hack it in the kitchen

i stand upright, fightin /chicken on the mind
sea sick /forget chicken/ fingers crossed
digestion quickens n i’m stricken by the
chicken shivers /the shakes and a swig
to steady those hands /one must
cultivate ones own garden so

i get my 2 litres in n i wake up dryer
n on some flyer some drunk man passed me
‘disco from 9, n 5 before 12’ n infinite
chickens do the maths for infinity n
you end up with the entire works of shakespeare

n it’s like the last days of rome in here

an eat all you can buffet it’s a
you can eat all if you can it’s an
all of you, eat if you can if you
eat all you can /bill please
bill please/more water
chicken slaughter n i’m ashamed to say
they didn’t taste free-range to a well trained palette/ yeah chickens – i’ve had it /yeah sorry
i’m full / i feel guilty
but i guess i felt less guilty
when i finished you /finished food

..food chain’s fucked mate yeah you fucked it
n yeah you fund it

so repent, repent n will your guilt
to transcend proximity n
apathy n chicken-borne lethargy!

an ode to these/their legacy
from me at least
n this is something of a grace belated, said while bloated
chickens croaked bukaw’d they cawed
we’re wingless we surround you in your
dreams we came and found you
we wing-clipped you / we devoured you

and you were all that could be ate in the name
of some wednesday

last few weeks have been a blur but here’s something i wrote just now

O Violeiro

facial recognition facial facial
reconstruction facial facial
laugh-lines wrinkles dimples blemish
and i blossom

flushed cheeks i speak slow
blush n mix up
words i fucked up
embarrassed and shy again but never a lost cause
be nice to me

and give me the time of day within
my own kind of space, be my comfort zone
and i will try to be yours

let’s accommodate each other and be our best selves

or try to be
and theoretically,
eventually we’ll tend to be at ease ( u n me )

more-or-less all-the-time

temperamental tinted goggles

he said he had
no time for slo-mos

naturally i figured i’d be
exposed eventually n i
don’t blame him for trying /not
surprised that he did try
but i suppose i proved myself in time and
in work and in life i doubt myself

and in my art i doubt myself doubt
this is even art and at times
this all feels forced and unnatural and i guess
in retrospect the expression that
probably came naturally
was rarely acknowledged there and then

those were the days
those could be the days
these are not the days until i say they were and sometimes
those were the days and are no longer
those were not the days /deluded either way

all wrong

fringe amendments
minor adjustments but
a bad hair days a bad hair day i’m
gross /watch my hair run away from me
for all to see /i’m ugly
and i can’t hide it and
the rest of me doesn’t want me to n
the rest of me shows, truly

avoiding reflections like
you’re beyond repair today
your hair and face and frame make little sense n
in this sense you’re on brand