Friday, 17 November 2017

End Credits

As my parents'
black labrador
dances to Surfin' Bird
I think we
can safely roll the end
credits to my life

He's really going for it
really shaking his ass
It's really quite remarkable

Snow That Hasn't Happened Yet

Hit the mattress with the wooden sword
Pour water on the mattress
This isn't a Haruki Murukami novel
These aren't our real lives
Snow that hasn't happened yet
The prisoners were exceedingly polite
I smiled or was it a wince
Put down that Haruki Murukami novel
Someone might see you
Snow will happen
I winced or was it a smile
'I was an infinitely dense dot'
wrote Mark Leyner
& I felt compelled to agree
even if I did secretly prefer to
consider myself a nebulous
cluster of sunflower
& then Jonathan Franzen gave
me a blowjob
which was jolly decent of him
I'm not certain if my gratitude for
said act will ever expire
It's not as if Haruki Murukami
has ever performed a sex act
upon yours truly
Neither has Jonathan Franzen
for that matter;
I invented the whole episode
in a bid to impress you
even though I feared it wouldn't work
Nothing I do or say impresses
you anymore
does it?

Lines Composed in Hollyrood Park on an Indian Summer's Day

Subliminal holistic dosages of poetry
are transmitted via electronic algorithmic feed
Your bouquet blocks my view
of the TV screen
It's difficult
to look urbane whilst carrying a plastic tub of Coleslaw down Leith Walk
at night
But I manage

Dismantle your marquees
I plead, as the breeze picks up
             as a dog swishes its tail
             in the sun
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