Wednesday, 30 April 2014


OK, yes, it's ended. Just below in fact.

As I keep saying, please give me your responses to this sequence, or I shall fear the worst . . .

If you have just arrived at the blog at this point, you could either graze on it until something takes your fancy, or you'll find a link to the first poem in the Pages listing, and you can work start reading or grazing from there.

At the moment, I think I'm likely to also blog the sort of continuation to this, A Second Age. It may well be done separately form this blog - especially as I discovered once I'd already begun that Firefox gets all uppitty at Blogger's layout code. Let me know if you would be interested in being notified when I start posting this sequence (I'll use the list I have been emailing to over  this - but if you're not on it - let me know - or, indeed, if you want to be taken off it - no more!!!). Email me at

Wednesday, 23 April 2014

100+8. This Didn’t Ought to Be Like This; But It Is, of Course

Café Belgique, January 7, 2013

“In my created head I don’t exist
As rising bed-heavy the mist
Is fixed though always full of surprises
And the world in my eyes
Is hardly a certainty”
Howe, p 13

Well, the recipe for cold noodles comes up here, I suppose, so I’ll let it. Very simple – just boil the noodles – rice noodles best – leave to cool, dress with a mixture of soy sauce, sesame oil & rice vinegar (some slivers of ginger in it & of course cut up little chillies), plus chopped spring onions, just blanched beansprouts, some cold cooked chicken shreds, a little dried shallot, maybe coriander leaves, that sort of thing. Light & refreshing, OK?

Not much more, really. If you want to know how many words, you can count them.
I’m not going to.

Eat well; join together; resist strongly
we might be OK yet.

At the last text
- unfalsifiable
true to tell
anything can be

Living fluid
Bathing in diurnity
A poet in words
A maggot in pus
- eat away at corruption
  to cleanse the wound
  that is our being

Il naso della pecora sente il precepizio

Time to finish the coffee now
look out
         at the still, dark river
the damp slabbed bulk of the mill beyond
- time to break down

“Winter tones are rose & glass
the sun as false as all nostalgias
If this world isn’t good enough for us
then an afterlife won’t be enough”
Howe, p 81

Tuesday, 22 April 2014

100+7. How Many Words?

feeding bodies
feeding minds
all delicious
that’s good
let’s go

each time
the same
yet ev’ry
time different
why not
let it
happen so

rituals and
landscape and
various spices
all set
for profit
the girls
[laugh] [coughing]
yeah, yeah
let’s have
another word
like chance
like share
like sheen
so many
so much

[no reply]

the history
of the
roman popes
proof of
that huge
rich variety
human lives
& what
a fucker
god is
(if he
ever did[1]

nice inside
done up
across the
road it
makes sense
at last
in stories
I believe

the milk
boils over
not my
fault really
not again
kids really
seriously no
who can
mind it
thank you
[laugh again]

I’m amazed
though at
my stamina
some chance
it may
go on
until yes
the end
you know?

more pronouns
then more
feasts too
to share
more riots
to fan
upset power
and change
our lives
some slower
more constructive
just to
ignore the rules
like here
a little dangerous
not really
only a
good start then
to build together

how many words?
as many as
you choose
you need
you share

[1] He is
isn’t he
when it
comes down
to it
something that
we inflict
upon ourselves
don’t have to
do we?

Monday, 21 April 2014

100+6. Inward Flourishes

What we’re talking about’s more like landscape
Laying itself before us as we travel through
Its stones & stories are the world around and

It’s like a ritual – no not a perfected one
Binding us to death, but improvising to give power
Let us move freely & loosely, OK then

Yes, deny and riot, even burn
But build at once, replacing things
By people & what we need to live well and

Even feast: on curry pie, cold noodles
Anything too the children love who now range freely
Truly nourished & nurtured fully outside and