This is a slippery slope
no roots or shoots to grope
no emergency rope and on
the face of it there is so little hope
that’s what I see
through this narrow periscope
now, I’ll shut my stupid trap
and cope.

this stuff we’ve been breathing in
same old, same old back and forth
tired molecules dragging feet
enough! - we’ve been here before
don’t suck and take this all for granted
I think we’ve forgotton the difference
between a scent and a stink
this huff our chests now heave -
moans of mild irritation or worse
so stale is our brightness of intent
and gone the whistle of being alive
even vibrations we don’t feel
look - it’s as clear as day outside
there’s a million miles of wind
and the sky has invited us
why not run the hill and turn
blow murmerstone and undertow
we should be rolling like rounded chalk
down hillforts and lazy tracks
where whispers never still
letting cracking groans and pleas
be rough vapors blasted free
and to nature’s tether, heaving in
gently calling sighs to laughing breeze
together sharing what we all share
no room for dried up truths
we now must leave -
we need more air.

It’s just a word,
that’s all it is.
Not so very different to
the others.
In fact, there are
171,476 choices
we could also
make.
Just another word
amongst the multitude,
that’s all it is -
just a word
and we’re struggling now
holding tweezers
over dirt.
It’s just a
word,
It’s just a word.
It’s just a stupid
word
We are too
ashamed
to say.

Here come
the Hammermen
a-bang a-bang a-boom
with metal wails
and woodsmoke clan
here they come
working thru midnite again
pulsing sons
in echoplex halls -
all alleycat wails
with the sense of shadows
beckoning lotharios
with purple moan
of mannish boys.
Oh hear them call
publicans of England!
Hear now these
Hammermen;
a-bang a-bang
a-boom.

i am full
swagger swelling
bloated even
and i am vain
and i am pumped
balloon edged modesty
moon-faced travesty
spoon ace
mastery
think
the fullest thing
a womb maybe
dam water lees
and log jam
milk shake
wheeze
think now
a dust world bus
stretched like a saddlebag
but not like us
like uterine kin
fit to burst
like sunset
rust
and now
the highways
midnight bound
and i am full.
it’s pictures
in your mind
i see
just think
when you read
me.

Words
are warriors
let them ride
over mountain’s teeth
let them climb
let them leap
like ghosts over the dunes
over sands and traditions
raised against ignorants
peeling skin of sycophants
mouth breathing falsehoods
with dead machines
only numbers describe
but never heal.
Words are warriors
let them run
between fallen honours
let them charge
let them roar
loud amidst the halfwits
with their door sniggering
doomed meat stares
never seeing stars.
Let them loose
among the dumb and damned
let them out
let them free -
speak to the idiots
line dancing in blood.
Shred ropes of shock and awe
before ask and lust for more.
Dead must be hypocrasy
and words must fight.
Now stop the war.