Writing

now I am a tree
small birds sing in me
never need to take a pee
no need of Brie
folly
introspectivity,

sun bleaching lilac
wind stripping magnolia –
be kind to this fig

It is another year and we are not broken
Rather in the middle still, in the thick
The thicky thick thickly dense
Once which we were struck for

i
stupid dew that frosts
you can snap better than this –
sublime and try again

Driving Up following pale cracks toward a yearning old sun – surprised by the glare Marathon Running

Comparing your skin to my guts, tamer Your liver spots to my innocence, older Your friends to my resting bitch

for UKL “The necessity of having to do Something” – make particular, dress, argue Generally run in old road ruts,

They cannot hold those facing eternity
And, taking ages, hold. They run across
A landscape unhurried after urgency
Imagined. Whorls bake into pastry cases
Evidence crunched and analysed on a tongue
Where good to go and not welcome play
Identically and sometimes both at once.
Show me your hand and what I see is your palm
But the tips are the pupils of that hand
Or, if unpicking a tangle of hooks
And fish slime, just one. They work so hard
You should give them a break and tickle them too
Lick some ice cream off them, buy some gloves
For goodness’ sake, bite your nails if you must,
Please don’t swallow. Unless you’re a god, that is
Whose touch gives light and even a hangnail is
Infinite. Tap time my dear, know that place.
Fingers may be digital but your tips
Analogue. They are not your employees.

Our kiss slides

Once all that’s left is my certificate
Not even rubble
A guy, you can sew him up from all my posts
Will be good enough to run for office –
Good enough? Superior! Going to win!
So why not have at it before I die?
I am a post-thought guy. High up
Everything is media anyway.

Once did nature, yeah:
That yellow liar with its blossom, not yellow really, see?
A conspiracy of colour,