A Window

​is a bricked up

thought that needs opening.
Fresh air is poison disguised

with a mask of benevolence.
Grass is indecent hitching

up it’s skirt in public.
Bones hold up lorries

with a “Your flesh or your life.”
Flowers dirty pavements

with their refusal of the concrete.
Gusts are a blessing against dry

stone walls decayed on the hillside.

My Dress

My palm sweats tsunamis
as she leads us off the transport.
“There’s a seating problem.”

She shows us the door
outside which armed guards
have arrived. “What have we..?

A guard raises his hand,

“Please, Sir, please understand
we do not do this lightly.
A person on the transport
said you spoke the language
of suspicion, and dressed
as you are you must recognise
we had no other alternative.
I could ask you to remove
your attire, but common sense
dictates you have not thought
to bring a change of clothes,
So you may leave the area
now and no more be said.”

We worked our way to a taxi.
I was shocked. I did not realise
the ban was on suit and tie.

A So Last Year

​on trend,


style conscious,


old school ,


need not want

is invention

to makes me buy more.
There was once only one

suit, tie, shoes,

golden age that never existed.
I’m suggestible to better,

faster, cleaner, sexier,

leaner, easier.
Pure impulse. I kid myself

it’s all deliberated,

considered, thought through,

that I’m reasonable.
I need control,


can’t help myself.
They exploit this need too.
I buy it.

Trail On (7) Piss Ant

​Splits the abdomen open,

uses a sharpened pair

of watchmaker’s forceps
carefully removes all the organs,

smears each organ across

a piece of glass. After each stroke
checks whether it has an effect

on a nearby ant colony. Smears

organ after organ: the poison gland,
hindgut, the fat body have no effect.

Finally finger shaped Dufour’s gland

excites their antennae,  a fragrance
of piss they dutifully follow. The animal

experiment has worked. How scientist

and insect find their way.