Unpredictable

Man is an animal
-unpredictable
sometimes he might let you close
let you cuddle, caress
snuggle softly between your breasts
turn you on
then turn on you;
tender nibbles turn, savage bites
knarled bone
soulavoir- leave you empty...
never stare directly into the eyes
you might see something more
than yourself,
something beyond yourself,
instinct- impossible to domesticate.

Calgary, AB., Canada




Stimulated

You're whacked out on that shit again
black coffee eyes, sugar coated stare
talking about men lacking depth...
I sit listening, drowning in
your teacup smile,
you decaffinate my mind.

Calgary, AB., Canada


Saw her in the park today
Sitting on the grass, first time since our
First kiss, taking in a free Shakespeare play,
It was crap
I spoke to her for a moment
Like a nervous teenager-
Stole an awkward kiss good bye-
The second- she said I was "getting brave"
I don't know if that's good
Or bad.


Calgary, AB., Canada




Suckers

Breast fed at birth,
we are all
born
suckers.

Calgary, AB., Canada





Morning

Woke up early this morning
my scrotum stuck on side my leg
I got up in the morning dusk
to find no clean briefs in my bag
the air was sharp and full of throaty snores
I went to the toilet in my dirty drawers
and stood barefoot on the piss covered floor
I didn' t give a damn.

Munich, Germany





Barcelona Bullfight

New blood flushes through ejaculating veins,
exposed upon a black velvet fur surface laden
with sweat:

OLE! OLE! OLE!

dodging, the matador sweeps his red
cape through the dust
round and round
stomping hooves, charging-
nose scuffs sandy ground, lunging- OLE!

OLE! and stabbing; six
spikes now in bloodied nape, sword strikes
shoulder, blade to blade- stumbling,
vomit,
vomiting blood, crimson, charging...

RAGE! RAGE! RAGE TORO!!

anger and frenzy combine
in chaos , circles and charging! CHARGING!
blood and charging,
ole and bleeding,
bleeding, charging,
disoriented in the billowing dust
round and round
newly disclosed arteries pulsing,
red cape flashes- OLE!

...now a pause.
The matador winks at a seniorita in the crowd.
His gait, swaggering confidently, controlled in bright ceremonial costume.The bull, standing, staggering, bleeding, staring,
spikes still standing in his back, teetering
as reeds in the wind,
blood dripping scarlet into the earth from his
protruding tongue, vomiting;
The matador returns with a sword, shining silver from its sheath,
in a hush
and matter of minutes the band begins
playing and it is done-
ole.

Barcelona, Spain




Dream #4

I don't recall who I called
Out to; I'm standing on the
Door sill looking
At the flagstone walkway:
A large brown snake lies
Stretched out in a line
Beside a staff, unvarnished
But stripped of its bark.


Bradford, W.Yorks., England





Thoughts through a chamber window

Looking out the window at the
clear California sky watching
the fluctuating pressure
of an outdoor fountain- jagged
white water jets, trembling upward
crashing and splashing back to the source
like a slit jugular- heart pounding and pumping,
metaphor for America, bleeding to death
the artery bleeding in this desert state
-gas chamber and Klan-
had the best burrito of my life here
but now bloated as
travel and injury has altered my routines,
waiting on my delayed flight
and thinking of Jenny.

San Francisco, CA., U.S.A.




Insane

Sitting on the balcony having
A good bitch session
To the background gurgle of the heavy trucks
Dialogues disintegrate into monologues
Similar gripes - interchangeable
Hoping to put our negatives together
Forming a positive
Inevitably talking to ourselves
The others presence simply
Spares us from being
Labeled insane.

Calgary, AB., Canada




Java Cafe

back in Bradford
at the Java Cafe
ten months I've been away
rain, light rain- round gray corner
walk from the cinema
movie on my mind-
many moments before the menu's brought my way
some hip hop jam
jets out, air clouded- dubbed with voices
soft colored lights over-dub the air
currents make cloudy the smoke-free
section with misty softness
-the air mixes, feel the bass beat through floorboards
like an engulfing heart- offbeat breathing
respiring, streetlight
stop sign red spotlight shines the electric eye
of a soldered rust-jagged metal sculpted fish
mounted across from me
glaring, staring,
waiting for the waitress
to come take my order-
considering, contemplating
the concept of "mood"
and artificial environment.

Bradford, W.Yorks., England



Dream girl?

It's funny how you can live
in a place then leave that place
then wonder if you were ever really there.
Tonight I'm thinking of Jenny- 1:17a.m.-
Tonight I'm wondering if she is there in Calgary
if she is real...
when I was in High School, around 1984, I
had a dream about a
girl who lived on an island
in Halifax Harbour-
woke up the next morning infatuated,
missed her fiercely for a few days
even though the island in my
dream doesn't exist, neither did the girl-
I hope Jenny isn't
the girl of my dreams.

Halifax, W.Yorks., England



Coal

Canter through the cavern of night
shadows fall from pale moonlight
upon narrow Northern English streets
slicked with tears of monarchies rein;
smokestacks stab the starlit sky that
over ragged slate-roofed row houses glow
the death lurks in an old mans eyes
of "is their life or only coal?"...
he looks at this life, what's to be found:
to live then lie below the ground.

Pudsey, W.Yorks., England



Brenda

She came from Melbourne;
I checked her into the hostel
I teased her about he way she
Said "no" with her Aussie accent;
Sometimes someone special slips into your
Life when you really need it
The hard part is when they slip out
-like morphine it kills the pain
but then you get addicted - you need it
continually and when it's taken away you're destroyed
by the desire, the dependence - the need -
she's off to New York for a spell, then London…
she leaves Saturday
I know that night I'll feel shit, that night I'll
Sleep alone for the first time in four nights-
Contemplating the "what ifs", sleepless,
Eyes probing the dark:
Wandering; the day she leaves will
Be the day I'll need her the most.


Calgary, AB., Canada



Leeds City Art Gallery

Poison apple surreal and sour
the goats head- head cheese
a man wrestles a swan amidst the wrecked
train derailed and glowing orange some
centuries later...
snow stroked heavy weighted church
with pointed steeple shifts the icy burden
to the body
beside the streetside cafe
in eternal summer sun
a thousand faces follow with
oil cracked eyes in their decaying
immortal images
amidst the pears and unknown images
-fog is the mind
in imagery and
lost in lacking certainty when the
immortal decays;
boats, angels and gods.

Leeds, W.Yorks., England



Too Much TV

Mind like video tape- the handycam-man
eyes focused in fishbowl staring
the world looks through your
lens; playback brain little green-gray images
made black and white
PLAY, RECORD, REWIND,
fingers forever feverently trying to find
the fast forward
sometimes reaching the end of the tape too soon-
results in conscientious rewind of
contents in blurred flashing images
forgotten fragments and figments
nothing like what you ever knew- wasted tape-
convulsing, the handycam-man clicks
the cassettes plastic tracked wheels jump in his
plastic body into eternal inertia-
someone pushes eject
and slips him into a plastic case
airtight, oxygen obsolete-
buried in a bookshelf gathering dust.

Dartmouth, N.S., Canada