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January 2016
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March 2016

February 2016

unconsciously holy cow

I make a noise. Get a new pencil

sharpener and cross the changes.

Cross the anyway this part of the

world doesn’t make any less noise.

And bulk it up with laughter of

our time which is. Loud madness &

blue confusion round a clock.

on about it

Long enough now to have a voice but not if you suppose having found

a voice in the sense of knowing what comes next and having reached a

certainty about the need to say. Such & Such. Makers of Fine Company

for Fifty Years. No not that long. But voice in the arrivals. You turn and

see that a friend has walked in and the sun has come up again out of the

muck he called darkness but meant muck. Now he’s here and you’ll have

to figure something to do. Or maybe just sit.

peppered with text

some days were exciting and fun

mouths opening and closing

legs longing out to river’s edge

sweaty romps & pretty green light

but mostly were minutes of crickets

of wind that comes from worry

already a failure with its flattering losses

we still never minded much because it brought

dogs and fresh little anthems to hum

we called Sensible Nostalgia

some days were exciting and fun

any decent pastoral plan


        the country





like a


        a mistake


        less than




        in waves

a lost receipt

starts with ‘aft-

er all these

years’ ends with

‘after all these

years’ human

still in the

swirl of here

the nothing

but the next

poem will be made out of sentences fully formed and deeply considered

or will say

take the cure

and ‘about time’

sounds like a

bus to me