Meals on the mar

 She's a luncheon maiden 

working on the cruise defused

All spikey and wacky

A voyeur far from shore

Unhinged but adored

uncertain of her charm

Undressed and unsure

duvet open

leg lotion

just a special luncheon

and a table cloth around her waist

Down the wrong alley

 Get out of the car.
swing out and gasp
exhausted
street haze at night

Moonless and starless night
pavement apathetic
bordering on criminal
scavengers get pulled in

Door swings opens
creaks
Driver in trance
mouth open

1970's datsun
a dead vulture
still flapping its wings under tyre
just nerves though

A muted scream
lips trigger mouth
all open now
terrorfied eyes

Alley way narrow
trash can open and full
smell of terror
Datsun one meter

A rat looks up
jailed youth in its eyes
mold on its furr
scarpers now

The young man is still gobsmacked
Numbskulled and bamboozled
The abyss has looked into him
The brick wall blurrs

The last flap of vulture's wings\
shadows spring from the filth
sprinting toward the derelict shelters
To conjure nightmares

Am I the rock?

 My passion drives me forward

 I fall and make mistakes

 Among the chaos I find the pieces

 I need to rearrange the puzzle

in the form i need

You look doubtful and the tide never comes in
But I know deep down the missing piece in you

Broken pieces reveals nothing to the world, ha  but I see

I was never meant to see, but i do

I fit them together, into each of my eyes, one by one

Until scattered pieces become you

Thus i see signs of the sea lapping margins
Then I trust the tide will obey the moon and move inward

Forced against its will, driven forward

In its waves crashing

And am I the rocks you ask

For not at all am I the rocks

You look doubtful at me as if I am tiny and I am
For I sit here on this beach as the sand

waiting for you to come over

Stupid little plans

 Fingers pick the clothes edges
arms raise with that sense of rhythm and repetition
The free hand opens the peg
it closes over the material and clings

Shoulders go from shrug to extension
she gets lost out there in the wind
The cardigan flies as the breeze lifts it
The line is full 

Another week of clothing hangs
moistureless day collaborate
rustle and blow the material
Until it is ready to put away

To wear over ourselves
for our agreed pretend
Shoulders go from reach to extension
you have no clue

There's this long line
her smalls and my bigs
in a wind that parches
that knows somehow

The secret that I keep
the peg box is empty
The imagination full
Bending and picking up the next wet shirt

Another space full
Another illusion bought and paid for
Another yearning fool
Dreaming of worlds so far off

Failing in the practical house hold jobs
Tightening the line
What's left over 
rides away on the clothes horse

There her shoulders are
Making their way out of her dress
Lifting and falling like the days
Smiling at me when she has her back turned

The free hands hold an edge
There's no peg to hold it
Nothing to secure a fixed life
You just thought it would be set in stone

But the wind blows those stupid rags right off
They get scattered into the neighbors yard
Right out onto the road
stupid little plans, broken little hearts

No dia que lembrei

 Apelo para amanhecer
Está na hora de conhecer o ânimo,

aquela camada esquecida,
o pacote dentro de mim.

Apelo para a tarde
O sol conversa comigo,

me ensina o seu caminho,
linhas através do céu.

Está na hora de conhecer
a parte de mim
que negligenciei,
que não dei importância.

Agora, no final do dia,
sou grato por ter vivido isso.
A luz final está iluminando
essa parte de mim
que por tanto tempo escondi.

The moon and my performance

 Blankness started this morning
Not only did the world stop watching me
But little accidents speedily interrupt the day
I am getting all the karma back they say

on the walk to the gym the moon watches me
It says I wnat to show the world something
I say so boldly -yeah so what
then i see it blink

And as I briskly step it whispers
it says you have nothing to show for your efforts
I flip the bird at the big old rock
flex the calfs and nail the squat

and get right back on this rugged page
Where your eyes have come
to bathe in my word-magic grace

the socks didn't wash

 I turned the socks inside out
and grass and soil fell onto the floor
I put the coffee on and had a snack

Dawn was about 20min away
morning still seemed a part of night
I would be sweating and thinking

This was my routine
My fate for the foreseeable future