home, where is home now?

dead in the back seat’s

loneliness, and hours

spent gazing dead-eyed


fields now houses

where childhood grew in -

amongst the gargoyles and old-

man’s bearded bramble snipers

used to hang there midair in the

those tree armchairs counting

cloud sculptures reinventing

their finite floating castles

then began to rot and older

became sullen, pity such

protein, scarecrow thin in a

mirror’s angst and hesitation

clumsy as drunkenness yet

seeking somehow wonderful

underneath the bare sheets, those

slightly damp twisting, twisting sheets

uneventful dreaming and morning

wakes empty, does not fit belonging

does not fit in anyone’s smile, there’s

an ashtray of sky beginning to snarl

so here is the anchor relied upon a

root of a room confided in, had this

cocoon some twenty one years

familiar as daily wearing

here comes now to dismantle, how

dismal, anxious as a thirst or unsubtle

effacement, unrecognisable where-

abouts coming, 4 walls of unknowing

evening breaks about its final seeing,

a moon swung, cornish for the last

time, swords the land around older

looking as vintage, obscure photographs

won’t the sea miss my footsteps, miss

my glimpses? a stride of circles where

the seagulls greet and glide uproars

of blows and salt beginning winds

tonight this world lapses, knowing

backwards won’t be revisited often

as, there is fear like a noose of a

rain-scarfed-moon alone

about to be ripped, to be pulled

from such a loamy dwelling, going

is quite soon, towards future of

gnarly spires, lost lane’d sprawling

towards being swallowed the

city that hangs its occupants

by burial or sleep’s attained walking,

lonely such lonely listening

arriving wept train crawls in and

eases slowly from elsewhere,

the rhythm of rain-wet-voicing seems

to tap “why are you even here?”

spired, concrete shoulders, unfamiliar,

folk swarm in and about of everywhere,

strangers in doorway gaunt jaws, a three limbed

dog, a cardboard message “ none dream here”

mouths and mouths more than shingles

on a shingled shore, interfered with air

traffics the odour of used, whose to know

me anywhere? pavements quick with martians

i am being pigeon watched like a possession,

buses ghost by hissing their wheels on several

occasions, “take me to the room that’ll keep

quiet in” “whose to consider me here?” “no-one”

whose to know my outline, my whereabouts?

whose to roam this vulgarity of shyness to

be initialled? anyone? where the red river calls pulling

my every direction into absolute bits

happiness eludes upheaved roots

tamar’s great umbilicus

i cannot inch far,

the sea is distant-

archives of lost


that narrative of


where the squalls

at dangerous play

i smell the surf as it

yields broken-

waved inside of

this delved heart

a familiar, a known

cousin, a lover if

the gales are read

right, moon pale lords

a yell of metres,

here the sky is

quite different, an ozone

defiant lid, indifference

a city’s coiled intestine

roads disinterested throats,

polluted statues observe

at nothing and at nowhere

like love’s neglected cradle

groped by the spittle of rain

and eaten by exhaust fumes

and spat at by tyres

pavements roamed by

strangers filled up with

glances, skyscrapers

look obscene cactuses

here happiness isn’t

strummed much, here

where the days fold in

among themselves, unloved

daily habituals, daily out

from cotton graves, i long

for the muddled moors and

birdsong ransacking disquiet

gorse enthralled seas

a tin mine ruin

a silhouette of

antique voices


(curdled mermaids in plastic,

miners beneath their slate worlds,

gales thru stood ploughs,

crones in dark awkward houses,

a ghost about tintagel)

“home is where?” asks the

the city-infected-breeze,

“not here not here” came

the reply, sighed-width and sorry

home is here amongst the

seaweed palaces and mackerel

bait, the creams of spume eating

away the coastline, my soul dragged

in the trawler’s nets

suckle come nourish upon tamar’s

godless ambrose, inside this granite

lung of curlew song and coastal

indistinct arches, come gaze the rock-pools

come listen forever the wind singing over

become the rocks that are sung across,

you are the one loved and not for all the

mead in this arsenic empire would i leave


insert of a


of a passive

figure striding

thru blades

headaches of

constellations being

forcibly broken

like the land lain


sadness what drowning is this?

heart’s sway disruption

a drowned man constant,

remnants of reshape and

spire as aching wreathed

round with rawness

how awful is waking?

pin me to each blazing to each

terrible morning flare-beamed empty-raucous

where the half soot crows are

picking thru thoughts makes

dreaming into carcasses

that gaze of previous

shards like all of yesterdays,

bayonet thru a dove,

i am inert as death this dreadful tuesday,

unknown sleeps graze daylight

grenades heartache grenade outwards

poison in-situ for yet another stale birthday

in me no angel dare possess

no witness resumes to what profusely bleeds

throw the cliff off its axis

pour the sun into over,

worthlessness, skyless-ness,

buRn what is now down to bare lustre

who cares in the seethe of

this citizen sea? all are being

dismantled somehow, a silence

mid-roar disco, aftermath always of rain

neither subdued cacophony or

a wired shouting tranquility

lie stiff as a sculpture wreathed by

ceilings, come suffocate further

i am uproar of pages sincere

as knives, out from the nib’s

aborted ink from cupid’s ripped

out ribs, pointlessness encourages -


that sigh demolishes seared-kissed-

re-glistened-muscle, destroys floors upon floor kingdoms

finally this is how to fall turbulent,

a spirals eventual discontinue, whilst

disturbing pebble smooth utters

into tinier fragments

frictions for eons for ions die

you lessen me sir. you collapse me

into something that is now no one,

a silhouette of another’s fingerprints

a person maladjusted

bracken sick hills molest the grey

sickly shore, and for all the thorns

that pierce thru’ out feeling, numbness

is applauding

quiet now as fossils

and eroded cold strengths,

burdens shall be enclosed

under failure and loveless sediment

a vagueness reminiscing, a long

lengthy stir of echoes


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