Thursday, 14 February 2019

My Bowery Loft

So here I am in my Bowery loft,
start the day with a start-up and end it with a Zoloft;

There on my wall is a Damien Hirst,
John Lennon's head and Yoko Ono's purse;

When I open my window I can hear the sound
of Joey Ramone turning in the ground.

Tuesday, 12 February 2019

lies


Because every single one of them lied
And flattered our drooping national pride;

Because the best thing since sliced bread
Is watching your white skin turn to red

As you sit and get pissed on a beach in Spain
And take back control, then lose it again.

Monday, 11 February 2019

Wednesday, 6 February 2019

Thursday, 31 January 2019

Cherish
your frailty;
the crack
in the
mirror

your rice
paper 
heart

within
that 
place
you 
hide away

is the 
fissure

that opens
and
gives
away
your soul

it is 
the valley
from 
which
we came,

the rift
from 
whence 
we all
depart.

Thursday, 20 December 2018

I sat
all morning
in front
of a tree

it was
a cedar,
the day
before
the solstice

I let
the cold
possess me,
became one
with the
shortening
light

tomorrow,
and then
tomorrow

still
among
silent
cedars.