Monday 18 March 2024

Maoism in East Sussex?








 

Saturday 14 October 2023

Remark on the Air

It’s a clear night, mid October, and the first real cold

has fallen around the city; the air I spoke of, clear,

quiet species presents itself. Forty four windows 

faced ours, and our lamplight signed the divide.


Tuesday 7 March 2023

Communiqué

By its very power
shame divulges 
in return its whole
truth obvious to see

yet full relate
drove you down to the beach
that it was enough, sunk
to freeze out

put simply the body
feels now
just now it wants to come undone, annihilate
its wholesale special 

interest which stands for addiction. 
Steady than below
unnamed, became the local
fictions. You told you that. 
Close to the chest. 

Now, 45.7°F seems 
inviting from this chair
alone, the lesson
you should not divulge everything. Quiet  

goes the way,
back to the open car and cast away. 
Some things deep in
are for the hut. 

You're performing
privacy for a feed
that will never come out of the box
is love giving up this too

too commensurate and
if the sun rises again, when
the speech in defence draws
out its obvious face you,

you learn to concede, go back then,
I think, to the grim quiet
part life without imposition.
This must be far

from all that ever would
you expect to have to live...
I could make an excuse here:
I was so tired, thoughtless,

but the crest of the wave 
was falling.
Here in this ridiculous list 
the one about your head 

whatever reach 
this back in her compression
maxed out. Duty,
in the end, and here it is. 

Wednesday 15 February 2023

Poem, 8th February 2023



There’s something I’ve been trying to access
a particular point in feeling. There’s the difficulty.

It’s attached to conditions at points 

along the curvature. Words when they come 

stare him straight in the face, as if he were the centre 

though perhaps he was the background 

the music falls on. He was the kind of man 

you would follow into the loss of return. 

You would not. Only a clod would enter that trail 

but I get to see them: My own footprints in the rain 

spilling out nonsense en route to the City. 


Next there’s the door salesman that took out the rest of your life

people said you’re not in danger, passing through 

the phased exit. Listen, Fauntleroy, you can pay me back 

whenever, the next mass suicide event 

you had blood pissing down my arms. We were so unwell. 

In the shop window there was a model of a skeleton 

for anyone that needed to get a skeleton. 

The crosshairs moved away so locate it again. 


On the wall behind The Duke we were frozen

puppies forbidden lightness kissing 

in this aubade simply gorgeous friendship;

you’d seen the sun up, robin. I had not. 

In the ABBA café life prevailed. One hundred years ago 

the boundaries raced beyond this station, 

The Regency estate blunted to the west with brickwork 

and a road, a wide, gaunt road to the institutions.

So it’s time to turn away once more 

to the corner feeling almost complete 

obliteration and how stupid again to be that way moved. 


All the while he stood there developing a doctrine, 

soap products, card games, asking for everything I shouldn’t have 

had for free. Somewhere else for now, a little way off 

west on the beach at high tide (the mast of the wreck 

twitching in the drink) you won’t want to do this anymore, 

you said, in a year or so, and there it fired up

the flickering tongue that takes you down to the Sanctuary, 

how old, I’m in the same place and have moved 

and remained the present tense folded, stupid 

to the pressure you’re inside it: A different kind of risk. 

 


Wednesday 8 February 2023

Night View on The Hard

First, there’s a single light, 

then a pleiades alone deep in 

the dark but the focus lightens

and it’s reflected on a lifebelt 


and the mooring figures gathered 

at the edge of what you know, is the dark 

water freezing sodium, sky, come here 

to the inlet look what is it empties 


and fills, passion, but obsession 

a sense of the slump in the night 

little shapes dormant carriers, 

but obsession, it returns predictable 


as leather in the backbone 

quiet fixation ruled by the the order

look out, back to the finish that night 

mooring a loose square into focus.


Thursday 5 January 2023

Poem - 05.01.2023


Steady the snow isolate

gorgeous through the blood

to see how far


how close we could come

North Street

I am given to think of


you there one house 

and roofs over and over

most if not all


that does not claim to warm

the tender sirens through the blood

dry stone.


Somewhere north of here there is a Hill. 

The moment 

has been prepared for.