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