Restraint

my dear mr statue
don't make me go after you with a hammer

easy
let me take
you apart
gently
softly
deeply
piece by piece
and put you back together

(me & poetry) what about You?

Deaf to terrible beauty
terrible stupid things dem

dose poems

hear nothing
nada, niente
flat heartless words

Choose
language
dialect

redirect

idioma
fou
who?

what the expert says
...pff


watch and eat and drink

consume your heart away
time to
participate
synchopate
elaborate
generate


but no

drive and shout
career around full
of hot gas
consuming,
eating,
everything (including spuds from anywhere but here and stawberries in December)

and complain
and lodge and squabble
and eat and drink and eat
and wibble wobble wobble

the precipice

the precipice

the truffling days are done
time for words

Where are our poets?
Is it a dead art?

Hidden, perhaps
under the surface
riding the currents of discontent

but not much use if
no-one's cocked
or even pricked

I have an apetite so large I could consume a bloody continent

Day

I slip into my sweet suede ankle boots
and
venture
into town

Night

I pull on my long brown riding boots
and
proceed
in to town

French Polish

A giggly blond Hungarian
paints my nails
while it rains, rains, rains
days have passed
and these white-tipped appendages
have grown and grown
long and tough
like an eagle
a swan
I must
cut cut cut