Poems

bites in the night

…


stalking the corridors
she is dismal death

watching us like carrion
until we nowak

as we go about
business in this mad house

you are now tuned in
to radio broadmoor

fm & online
out the other – said the actress

but we’d rather be sleeping
on a bed, comfy mattress

yet the dark is a lark
& community is bright shite

bites in the night
but the bugs shall not become us

…

life as it unhappens

…

a boarded up shop
on a dead high street
of a breezless afternoon
sometimes the moon
can be seen in daylight
still up from last night
but not this x
on a sheet of graph paper
doldrum roll, please
where did all the traffic flow?
we stand statesque
under dozy duvets
of motionless blue
unstung by wasps
or mutant g.m hornets
no lightning struck
while the iron was lukewarm
or song was sung of
life as it unhappens

…