status update II

like the poor performer in court
dressed like a charity shop pantomime horse
wiggling my raggy, baggy arse
tap dancing through the routine I rehearsed
desperate to get my sentence reversed

like the sweaty shopper who scurries
across the supermarket car park pursued by Furies
who flap around me like monstrous canaries
and drop to do me unspeakable injuries
then thank me sweetly for shopping at Sainsbury’s

like the maudlin mafioso mobster
struggling to finish his plate of lobster
out in the alleyway back of the dumpster
where he just took the seafood cook and tossed her
for failing to pay his dyspeptic sponsor

IMG_3247like the slimline actor peddling goop
eggs for the mange and herbs for the droop
and a chakra cleanser like a neon hoop
that’s great for cancer, crabs and croup
if you sign up now for her exclusive group

 

half man half biscuit

You know you’re REALLY in the shit
when the guy tasked with getting us out of it
holds a press conference with a packet of biscuits
and the biscuits win

Seriously. What’s WRONG with him?

BISCUITS?
Is this the future of UK business?
If this is charisma
then I’m Father Charismas

What IS this?

Maybe he’s smarter than that
Maybe there’s half a plan under that hair-like hat
Maybe he’s tying the media in knots
playing them with multiple money making plots
ready to dump shares in Vegemite and Arnott’s

Or not.

Is this what passes for a serious trade representation?
Taking a press briefing dressed as Sir Les Patterson?

IMG_3233What other Australian things does he know?
I’m surprised he doesn’t mention Russell Crowe
What about Skippy, or Kylie Minogue?
Or stand there dressed as Ned Kelly instead
with a dented tin bucket on his head
a sign round his neck that says G’Day! I’m Boris!
We’re up shit creek, mate – please don’t ignoris

Boris vs. Winston

Boris shares the pouchiness
the shoulders & the grouchiness
lacks the hat
but makes up for that
with his hands thrust resolutely deep in his pockets
hair like Warhol stuck a fork in a socket

he’s very fond of speeches
but often overreaches
panics
and goes splashing around in the classics

Boris went to Eton then Oxford
which is a little bit awkward
given his ‘common touch’ schtick
he’s no idea how normal people tick
but then again, Winston went to Harrow & Sandhurst
so I’m not sure really who comes off worst
in that regard
it’s hard
and anyway, the working classes love a toff
as long as it’s not clear who’s ripping them off

IMG_3200so – in conclusion
it’s true they both had a bit of a power delusion
but whilst Winston was famed for his persuasive pugnacity
Boris is known for his evasive mendacity
I’m afraid his gravitas is more gravitasn’t
he says he’ll do something but dasn’t
his main talent is for being absent
and whilst Churchill led us in World War II
Boris hasn’t got quite as much to do
just driving wedges in the United Kingdom
tipping us out of the European Thingdom
making us world beaters in screwing up a pandemic
– so I suppose in that way you could say he’s been epic

 

statue PR

my stiff neck became brass neck
accompanied by
what I can only describe
as pose yearning
and a gritty kinda burning
way back of the eye
where my brains started to shrink & solidify
with a numbness like concrete
that dropped like a sheet
thumbs to feet
I started to feel – I don’t know
all plinthy, I suppose
tethered by my toes
in one weird, wired position
until I realised I’d transitioned
from person to public exhibition
a fancy perch for pigeons
it was a giddy proposition

but even I could see the benefits
of this super-stationary genesis
my slate had been swept
my darkest sins side-stepped
I’d been morally cleansed
through the weighty marble lens
of public sculpture
chiselled into the culture
hoisted onto a podium
left there ad nauseam

IMG_3182so if you’re standing there wondering
about all the heroic rendering
considering, consulting your phone
asking who the creep is, set in stone
why he deserves to be so well known
honestly – don’t trouble yourself what the truth behind this is
just take another selfie and go about your business

 

monster movie

Godzilla squares up against Trump
top of a North Korean nuclear dump
Godzilla roars
wiggles his ears & claws
flashes his incisors
Trump gives out a little scream and turns to his military advisors
but they’re all miles away, smiling & waving in oven gloves & safety visors
Trump straightens his tie, raises a finger
Now just a minute
This is not the picture
I swiped right on Tinder
You’re nothing but a big, mean, nasty lizard…
Godzilla stuffs him wig first straight down his gizzard

IMG_3149

On reading about the excavation of the Red Lion playhouse, Whitechapel

he knew it better than anyone

how everything
every last thing

all the seating & setting / the lighting / the moving & getting / all the manoeuvring & serving / the swerving & reserving / all the scraping & scribing / bringing & bribing / all the playing & plying / the kneeling & revealing / the falling & failing / all the drinking & fucking & feeding / all the needing & pleading / all the throwing & doing & daring / all the caring & not caring / the scarring & the scaring / the ending & surrendering / the wondering / the wandering / the losing / the brawling & bruising / all the knowing & the not knowing / the forgiving & forgoing / the forgetting / the regretting / all the dreaming & bleeding / the reading / the remembering / the readying / the breathing / the beginning

everything

must fall to an echo of voices in the blood
and a course of flat red bricks in the mudIMG_3148

a furious fairy tale

Hear that roar? / it’s Captain Wonderful in his fantastic four-by-four / drumming up support for a civil war / you’ll never figure out how he does it / he loves it / when truth stands up he shoves it / he’ll bean bag and baton you / totally flatten you / I mean – this is a man’s man / ageless and raging as Potus Pan / Wendy and Tinkerbell tossed in the van / Captain Hook promoted to Right Hook Man / riot gates thrown around Never Never Land

Look at that reporter / sneaking into court / to talk to the King and his daughter / to hear their theories of social disorder / echo in the ego architecture / quit stalling / it’s all too appalling / he acts like it’s a calling / a symptom of the general failing and falling / so you stumble out into the rose garden / nauseated by all the fairy tale jargon / knight v dragon / the princess and the plea bargain / and you take a deep breath in the outside air / and choke on the tear gas drifting across the square

Look at the sky / the white clouds like foetuses floating by / in an amniotic juice of privilege and denial / linked by cords to the heart of the sun / where the good stuff flows to everyone / who looks enough like the big guy in the suit / in numbers beyond your capacity to compute / who bids the orcs in the parks and the playgrounds shoot / who waves the bible and stashes the loot / your mission – should you choose to accept it / is identify his supply and check it / intercept and wreck it / and if you get caught – fuck it / I know it sucks / but if they ask us a question we’ll probably have to duck it / so good luck / and here are the keys to the garbage truck

Let us pray

Our Father, who art in bunker
orange be thy name
thy wisdom come
thy wig be done on Fox
as it is in OAN
Give us this day our daily brutes
and forgive us our press passes
as we forgive those who
press pass against us
and lead us not into Trump bating
but deliver us from civil
for thine is the Sub/Dom
the Donald and the glory
forever and ever
Arm men

IMG_3106

bio

I’m a walking Wednesday
hat backwards, looking forwards

I’m a lunk in trunks
dining on dunks
overdosing on pineapple chunks

I’m the kind of man who knows what he wants fifteen seconds after he lost it
I’m Old Jack Frost / tossed for frosting the banquet / lying in an alleyway shivering under a blanket

I’m tumbling downstairs, nursery rhyme style

I’m Grandma Grumps dry humping the pumps

I’m Homo slopiens

I’m caught, cursed / under rehearsed / waving from the shoulder, stuck in reverse

I’m Wild Bill Haggard and the Ne’er do Wells
Squint McKenzie
Slim Pickens
Snarls Dickens
Bertrand Chickens

that’s it / that’s all I got

Sam-I-Am not

IMG_3101