Rigid

I’m supposed to write
About things I see
Frame them in a delicate verse
Both patient, and a butcher
With perspexecutive lenses
Yelling through glass cubicles
The click echo location commands
If not for yourself, then
For your community
The street spirit that died
When we locked our doors
Never quite straightening
The visual cues on the wall
Aware of many pictures
Competing for one role

Rigid

An Existential Crisis of Structure

Moving at high speed
Over metal planks that are wearing
The 737am from Glasgow Central
Its energy contained within them

The stillness lost for a split second
On this life-size brio set, aground
One part of a network of incisions
That unobtrusively connect our towns

But I have not laid down a finger
To engineer this feat of labour
I’m free to move freely between its carriages
Within reasonable standards of behaviour

The network of wires and rails
Screech through the past, thankless lines
Of migrants constructing despite the schedule
A late train constitutes wasted time

Educated, softly spoken. Not hardened
By labour. Heading to a convention
Cursing the network signal under our breath
Because we need instant gratification

Bright boys and girls drinking coffee
Surrounded by a cotton shroud
Where physical objects were once pertinent
Now, we only understand the cloud

I couldn’t tell a cumulonimbus
From the faint ether of WIFI signal
The rain shall wash over my ignorance
But not over the invisible

Maybe each generation has its labourers
Leaders and guilty passives
Flummoxed by the specifics
Of difficult technical challenges

But it can only take us so far
In the pursuit of elusive zeal
I’m at the mercy of this technology
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel

An Existential Crisis of Structure

News Update

Cleverness is a drug
If I’m the judge, I can
Sentence myself
For possession with
Intent to distribute
But the powdery
Substance always slips
Between my fingers
When I try to
Take a closer look
Intelligent as I am
I do not understand
The chemistry set
Cased in. Waiting
For the bloody mess
To absorb the news
With a clean breath
Of certainty
But this forgery
Left a lagery imprint
On the outer shell
A tattoo engraved
To question what
I put up my nose
And into my chest

News Update

New Leaf

I snapped a twig
In a leafy park suburb
Gates closed in
I was circling for a
Way out of this
Repetition.
I tread carefully
But still hack at
The wooden
Fences among
Springs and babbling
Brooks chattering
Constituent parts
Flowing through
Indiscriminately.
They dried out
The other side
Charging for the
Right to poor water
Ownership is king
I don’t know
How to turn it into
A new leaf

New Leaf

Feelings

Those who write love songs
Should be shot on sight
Lined against a wall
Shown a grainy stream
Of their significant others
Weeping in pain
We drink champagne
To their broken spirit
And laugh about
Feeling dead inside
Emboldened by rage
Growing like the wall
Flowers between buildings
Speaking out is insolence
No love sweeter
Than breathing in
Cosmic dust
Feelings are a distraction
From the death
Of the universe

Feelings

Uncome

Somewhere sits an old conversation
A passage, poetic, muscle reflex
A sadness. My day-to-day devoid
Of wistful thinking
Yet, here; new friends
I have respawned in places
I’d never heard of
Know inner city streets
Better than some
Of these people
I share my food and wine
We talk about our differences
When did I become
So one-dimensional?
Nostalgic for that bond
I had with brothers and sisters
A pack strewn across the land
By careers and economics
Not quite as snugly fitting back in
When the chilly breeze
Catches the back of my skin
Hairs standing up
I am uncomfortable
With everything

Uncome

Fishing

There’s something in the water
Wader, knee-deep
Friend? Or foaming foliage
Aggressive camouflage
Whole species of algae
Wearing microphones
The size of a pin prick?
I’m alert; I’m ready
For a piece of metal
To pierce through me
My initial flinch subsides
A solitary fish swims
Just out of arms reach
Perhaps unaware that its
Existence is in my hands

Fishing