Mid winter approaches with the departed
welcomed to a cathedral city
don’t own a blanket any more
a sky that looks like the end of the world
they think they live for snow
think they dare snow
the near-silence it brings
falling fallen suffocating
hear it listen to it
roadside icicles draw the eye
mute church organs
for unknowing pilgrims
for fourteen unnecessary miles
6th century saints rise up from the exhausts
of thwarted vehicles bearing bouquets
until this mania is banished
a well-oiled set change
the actors enter more assuredly
walking on water which used to be ice
which used to be water
a walk on part which does for now
I still like a good wedding
the cake and the icing
made-up made-believed
little distinction
a pencil rubbing of bumps
of one’s liminal luck
I try to count leaves
and leave it to others to plot
the wandering planets
the heart’s moraines
the ridges of the brain
the maps of fingertips
local authority oversees
mixed dialects
of all kinds of south
racial prejudice plus murder
equals ethnic cleansing
they know it can happen here
so let’s grind out a new ground zero
like they did on T.V. that day
grow stuff in fields of dust
the building blocks of intimidating buildings
no wonder they collapse
when people would wish them to
well it’s a one for the money
one for the money
one for the money
upload beauty
upload banality
upload a wallet stuffed with guesses
herd the stars into a cupboard
beneath the stairs
because no one cares
an educated edgy kid
considers a teacup of doubt
radiating no time to be young
jewel case Niagara
Nebuchadnezzar
Geneva Convention
a shop front partly obscured
by pedestrian crossing lights spells
“THY PERKINS” to this unbeliever on a bench
one sign influences another
everything has a chance
to eclipse everything else
to buy its way out of a hole
so should I get up or sit here
feeling a nostalgia for God?
end of year big cat clearance
the way the why
sell off the treasure
an animal passed behind me
as I walked home on a
former railway track late one night
it sensed me I sensed it
but I don’t belong to it
it doesn’t belong to me
I am indentured to the moment
the occasion and location
of my motion
I’ve lost my wild life
my nerve ends cauterised
bird song conflicted by ring tone
the long face of a horse
preparing for an equinox
to win back my head
I don’t have to be
someone will take my place
nature finds a way
as I pray for my hands
bloodied by secret diamond walls
in a task I was born not to complete