A luxury I’ve learned to live without (2000)

I stroll the Sunday silent street In thrall of muscle weary feat A wasted week

a reek bleak sleep

Straining against the grained brain ashamed of help outside my stale shale shell

a haze of hectic hegemony

                                                                                       recoils rasping from recalling

The strolling bundanced bile and beet Offal bustle. Beery beat, A lazy leap

a reek bleak sleep

Flailing amazed by railing shame I strain I belt out snide I fail fail yell

of ways to septic ceremony

                                                                                       of hangdog heartbust homily

That strolls the Sunday silent street.

Well... (1999)

If life, defined, is this moment

and then the world spins on,

kiss me into a coma

before this moment's gone.



Note: I remember writing this and thinking I was very clever, until I realised I'd read it in Brave New World. Oh well.

Summer Lovin' (1997)

Don't you feel there's something strong between us?

A bit like gropin' in the dark, or squelchin' in the sun?

Run rabbit, run

Quick - Quick - Quick

Quickquickquickquickquick

All this glory strummin' turns my head around

One of these whiles I'll tread a rut and run into the ground

Run rabbit, run

Right into the ground

Drawing at the well (1998)

To draw your face with words
Needs something I don’t possess -
Through the imprint of you at the back of my eyes,
Through the memory of your caress.


For in song lies a blossom, a heartbeat,
A larynxlove pure, untouched, true;
Unsullied by promise of sweetmeats
From poppydreams scrawled in wild hue,



And how bright is the flame of the chorus
With fearless delight in its birth,
Untouched by life’s grimy thesaurus,
Unclipped by this rust-scissored earth.


So I’ll shape a phrase of you,
Inapt though my mothwords will be;
Through the essence of you in the mackintosh rain
Through the part of you dying in me.

Twister (1997)

Can you feel the twister winding up within you?

Sister

Do you feel you're flying?

You know,

it's days like these when I feel I could do just about

anything -

as long as you're with me, and I keep this

buzzing

inside me.

Up into the ether, the only way

<or so they say, I don't care anyway, cause I feel I'm flying.>

But,

I got a spring inside me,

tensing and bending inside me,

so scared it's gonna snap

I feel so spiky it hurts.

I feel the world turning away,

burning my fevered mind away -

too close to the sun on

electric icaruswings,

but I don't care anyway

because for now,

I'm flying.

Service me (1996)

Full on annual sexual MOT,

A gasping jalopy

Rolling on, I let your almond teeth

Clamp lost dignity,

And in an instinct-second, leave my rusty

Hasbeen liberty

And dissolved élan for feckless junkyard elegy.

Where they belong.

Miles behind me.

Rhyw Beth (1997)

Mi oedd hi'n anghreadwy

yr dau ohonym ni wrth gwrs wedi meddwi

ac yn siarad am rhyw

Beth.

Ond 'r 'on ni wedi chwalu,

rwan dwi'n methu meddwl amdani hi

heb meddwl am rhyw

Beth

Beth

Be' dwi'n mynd I gwneud

hebdach rhyw

Beth?