Friday evening. Whiteout.
Snow falls silently,
softly in ghostly murmuration.
A restless earth blanketed,
metamorphosed and miniaturised to a mewling baby,
acquiescing to the serenity of sleep.

Let the sky fall,
the working week is over,
and I hygge at the aphelion
from Monday 9am.
The curse of Adam,
the venue of all my failures,
trapped in the repetition of an Escher,
tiring with the tedium of Sisyphus.

But here, my daughter and I
spin a delicious nonsense of
animals and magic and poo and bum talk
that would make Rabelais smile.
We are safe, and delighted,
we are enchanted, and transported.

And the many tiny tortures
of the working week,
that pursue me in thought –
wild dogs tracking prey to exhaustion –
suddenly fade. Give up the chase.

The universe is singing,
and my soul springs to life on a great dancefloor,
galvanised by the lovely electricity of
my daughter’s lambent laugh.


Chin up

Fear whips through,
a nuclear wind
dissolving resolve
on contact.

Dread seeps in,
rising black water
drowning pleasure
as it sleeps.

I nod, I grin,
I do what I can
to pass muster and time.

I awake, I begin,
cattle-prodding my
body on down the line.

The mechanism creaks as it chews itself up.
The orchestra grates as the conductor fucks up.

I cannot think, I am no fun.
I want to drink, I long to run.
It comes and goes, it’s dull and drear
and I wish I was anywhere but here.

Haikus 8

astrocapetown611539031089.jpgAn ending
A tumour excised.
Moon orbiting home planet,
drifts off into space.

‘You list ‘fisting’ as
a hobby?’. His forte was
angling, not proofing.

The one
True love: it is the
instant assent to the sprung
ask: ‘sniff my finger’.

We’re all just over-
engineered apes scanning for
the next hot alpha.

Alone, I’m just a
cog. But with you, I help turn
a magic machine.

Haikus 7

Nice try
“I guess this is good-

bye then”. She nodded and gave
him his sheath receipt.

51EA66ED-73CC-4FB0-BCC7-8D505C041061Too literal, mate
“What do you see when

you look in my eyes?” she wept.
Easy. “A small me”.

First Date
Pointing at the rough

sleeper “that’s awful”. Thinking
about her nice bum.

dd0c2773-21a5-49ee-964a-6e728c873e8c-245-00000004c8a746afNeeds must
To get through each day,

Nigel laced his big walrus
moustache with cocaine.

Peter, what is this?
Shit! Mum’s keys in the

door, and the ejaculate
unaccounted for.

Earth child, scent of
gunpowder. Each year ebbs
four centimetres.

Her face fell. “We don’t

have a sieve” he beamed. Yeah, he
won’t make birthday two.

2CAC0D50-3D9E-4831-9334-2C2A18925E97False alarm
“Was that John?”. He looked

over the side of the bridge.
Yawned. “No, John can swim”.

Three fucking hours of work
The house was still a

tip. Disconsolate, it dawned
that he’d dreamt the clean.

It’s ok
At the last, before

oblivion claimed her, the
terror just…vanished.

Kulturgeschichte / Religionsgeschichte / Juden / 19. Jh.Whoops
The pen that signed the

Pogrom order was made by
a pacifist. Ha?

Haikus 6

Vending invisible choc
Skipped lunch. 4pm.
Poked 4-4, Mars Bars 4-5.
Empty spring turns. Fuck.

5BA7A234-71D4-4FCE-B9B3-80F45CAD24E9-242-000000467AF03ADCComing to the crunch
Our love, a snail
under boot in the gloaming.
Crushed by want of care.

Sad bastard
‘I’m shit at my job’
he thought, every day until
he just…really was.

When Claire put ketchup
on Steve’s risotto, he upped
and moved to Denmark.

Everything’s relative
‘Oh yeah’ he snarled back.
‘Well maybe you’ve just got a
massive twat!’ Fair point.

0A0769FF-E328-49B6-A6AB-EACDD8857B4F-242-000000495529412EOnce upon a moment
We’ve all got a book
in us. If just a short shit
one about writer’s block.

Death of a glamour model
short and sweet. Simply read “Thanks
for the mammaries”.

Sir Wantalot

I want to be the home that you return to,
I want to be the coat that keeps you snug,
I want to be the picture at your bedside,
I want to be the cocoa in your mug.

I want to be the music that you dance to,
I want to be the glimmer in your eye,
I want to be the thought that makes you smile,
I want to be the birdsong in your sky.

I want you to be happy when I’m near you,
I want you to be less so when I’m not,
I want you to be hopeful for the future,
I want the past to fade and be forgot.

I want to not now have to want you,
‘cos wanting you means that I am without,
I want to fall into a space-time wormhole,
‘cos someworld else
we’re hand-in-hand
and going out.

Haikus 5

56EF37D9-113F-435F-829D-18671EA8D81F-242-00000029F3A1A366Bowels of Hell
He lost respect for
Steve. That stench in the work loo.
Yes, Steve’s shoes alright.

Sofa cushion lucky dip
Eating, she dropped a
bit. Retrieved without looking.
In mouth. Eurgh. Different.

Canine Waste Executive
His job was to put
little warning flags in dog
shit. Three A levels…

Existential Skittles
By the twelfth leisure
centre vending machine lunch,
he just felt nothing.

80D33872-146A-4283-A5CF-EDA8004B293B-242-00000028AF3844AEPrick Dundee
“Call that a penis?”
said the Urologist, in
a shit Oz accent.