I see tinned value tomatoes

and back issues of the Big Issue

at the altar crossroads of hope

and limitless opportunity


I’m feeling cauterant

as our earned wealth

is dissipated

by Government policy


modern day slavery

up to the minute piracy


as the last wolf abdicates at

the funeral for funerals


and words such as “only”

“free” and “just”

are forbidden to be featured

in advertising


especially in a land

that’s now fit for billionaires

and their medieval version of justice

They Came Home

Unsuspected cemetery

its thousand year sand graves

sifted away by storm



they had lived clasped

by the shore

and by the sea

vigorous and self-assured

that margin


on their oceanic trade routes

of exchanged objects

and the latest news from

beyond the dolphin-drawn horizons


of kings and their retinues

the gossip of far-flung tribes

precious stones and

famous sunsets


the bones of the infants

unusually survived

loved in the cuddle

of the cist

laid down with seared hearts


they said their toes pointed inwards

bunched that way

by the embrace of

disappeared shrouds


Another Delirium

Who will wear the turkey crown

for the people coming home for Christmas?

come home


the words written in the dirt

of unwashed winter vehicles

on poorly lit routes

could they show the way?



I have no industrial past

I’m just some kind of penis


grief as mental illness

mental illness as grief


you lost tribe

man your crannogs

woman your canoes

shoulder your loving


hey you damned

get ready for the fever

of your revelation


Find my voice

short films in small dark rooms

former Archive Office

in a castle

that’s never a former castle



they hypnotise

make me think that employment

is a kind of life support

that’s in effect switched off

on receipt of a P45

they hypnotise



I think of the past

imagining the workers disappearing

the rulers search for them

in their hovels

the servants’ quarters

but they can’t be found



who will replace them?

The Future: A Retrospective

Saxifrage non Anglo-Saxon

equinox economic migrants

just like you and me


so come in join me in

a draught of peace mead

and supermarket Spanish red wine

and toast the Cathars


subsumed within the contours

of bottles

as good as any place anywhere

in this imperfect present tense


the light at windows

creates a space

no great shakes

lily white imaginings

magic thinking


what happens to odours when

they have expired?

what becomes of expiated

thought processes?


is the past still alive

and being continually re-invented?

or are we all dead and interred

in the defining moments

of our respective countries?


a wasp-induced September

with insects queuing at exterior lights

while rotting fruits

marry fallen leaves

in stagnant holy water
the Earth still moves

The Elixir of Preparation

The elixir of preparation

and the preparation of the elixir

the moving air

the flies on hot roof tiles

science as an aspirin


to be a crow

then one crow to another

an imagined conversation with Nick Cave

in the cemetery of celebratory dead




in Arden Forest

the view through a green glass sphere

“better do it now than wish it done”