alveoli

by this to mean tout or do not

love so purely as to heave

grand handfuls of the air

in gluttonous quantities.

Assume, & by this time will have been & gone;

all gladly truncated.

Nantucket II

Two points, a bearing is at hand; and character is –

there's one of the fiercest, time looming

large on the face – a sounding measure.

The buzz of copper bells, another note is added;

come up to shore and exhaust.

The landscape journal soaked with firm setting

delays. The new signal carries bassoon notes

up to the dome and amongst a nexus of clouds;

context rising through, an air compression.

Be that as it may: who's scuttled overground?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oh, to write a poem that goes nowhere in particular. Written whilst listening to The Foghorn: A Celebration. 

Township

O to be pleasantly busy with that hot bizness

of poetry or up late; be certain

that colliding verbiage is

WOW! A Good One!

Pinched ideas & let down by gradual

isotropic decay – the perfect radial motion.

Exclusive and a prankster is reciting moments

from a future, transferred and pleasantly backlit; harangue

TOWNSHIP – TOWNSHIP – MERITS there is TOWNSHIP

There are times when the school you've pleasantly adhered or

signed up to is no more than running slow motion through a

pleasantly spooky high-school corridor while the bows rub

against the strings disharmoniously. There are times when it's

all quick cuts to & fro, reverse shots or pleasantly nothing more. 

O I am

fickle and in love with your illustrious tricks. O be so

but pleasantly.

-est-est-est

The Fleetingest is now sold out. Thank you all for the tasty support. I recommend you go and pick up some of the other Red Ceilings Press books: they're fab. If you're still hungry then there's more appetifs over at Infinite Editions too.

Here's something that didn't make the cut, as they say:

emeth

The silhouette falls across the entrance,

rapt Cathy calls out a warning --

this one is a painter but moves

more like an errant detective,

scrapes his mud across the carpet.

Later, Cathy will make

a golem of the

thing.

Tracing the steps back, they end

just beneath the lintel – a star

is framed below the right angle.

It's here our man abides

with a fixed stare,

awaiting the cue to

begin the whole process

again.

Cathy's eyes are sensitive.

Her good deeds unreferenced.

Her fear of the coop ecstatic.

The Fleetingest

My book came out last week. It's my first one and you can get it here.

For JS

& that's the day you became the

toxic-assest hound; un-loud and

present you, marvellous with the

eyes, and conflicts of interest

made hardy by the barriers,

no dialect of exchange shall

shallow these workings,

how you doing this? Bus

ridge melts fixtures to their

                                    fittings

one step

for those who spent

too much time & thinking

it is okay there now a

day's work if not a week

back up in the bright intolerable

sky there's ships arrayed

about the river

              sails a no general upset

dehydrate the dragging tide

rigour

it's beginning, for rigour is in all things,

the spark of transit, an arc of electron

decay, wide open tracts with space

for the measuring. A firmament we cannot

all be, and do not all be, but once a guiding

bulb caught ignition and cleared the air

of its thrifty gloom; no way the present

does not move on but stays fixed

like the light.