The Oaf

Inside the head of The Oaf
I saw a thousand grunting spastics
Gurning and wanking
And their faces were all mine.

The Oaf says:
Writing is for poofs,
Poetry is bollocks,
And -
Who the fuck do you think you are?

The Oaf always sits at the back.
The Oaf always fries things.
The Oaf likes boredom because boredom leads to
B&M
And alcohol lives there.

The Oaf walks:
Slouchy, slightly too slowwwly
Stops
And -
Checks his phone. So what?

The Oaf has a gorm.
The Oaf has admiration for his stomach fat.
The Oaf is waging a secret war against
Me
Because I am here.

Inside the head of The Oaf
I saw the spines of a thousand books
Chewed and malformed
And the books were all mine.

The Oaf says:
Write no words,
Draw no metaphor,
And –
You are not what you think you are.

The Oaf knows the power of fast attack.
The Oaf never tries things.
The Oaf likes whoredom because whoredom leads to
Wages
And alcohol is there.

The Oaf walks:
Deliberately fast, frantic, frenetic
Fizzes
And –
Runs the road, red hot.

The Oaf was not born.
The Oaf will never admit the fact that
The Oaf is clearly, indubitably,
Unopposedly
Unreconstructedly
Recognisably
Mostly
Me.

What Does Whose Space Is It Anyway Sound Like Anyway?

I remixed one of my books

Lost Last Pages

Last night at 5am I woke
And logged on with the normal stroke
Asked Jeeves to Google AOL
I Wikied and clickied and mousied as well.

I reached the farthest hinterlands
Which satiated my demands
Of lust; but there was one link left:
The Last Page of the Internet.

I hovered there with heavy breath
My blood was sludge, my soul bereft.
I clicked the link. The page began to load.
Ten words appeared: the motherlode.
“Well done,” they read. “You’ve won the ‘net.”
Then words that damned:
"Now wash your hands.”

I travelled in my sleep that night.
To strange and dusty desert sites
In Arithamean markets burned
By hearty sun as life unfurled

I felt a scratching at my back
But this was no villain’s attack
A boy, bright eyed and clad in rags
Beckoned to follow in his path

He pointed to a distant hill
I wandered there with my soul filled
With wonder, hope and longing for
The answers of a silent Lord.
A cave. A scroll. A Bible, full
Of the familiar verses. Still:
Beyond Revelations, on I read.
A lost last page! I held my breath.
God’s final words, no less, in full
I repeat them here:
“Only joking.
“LOL.”

Alphabeticised Battleships Like Words

- - ; A a again, all always always Always ancient and as as avoid battleships be be Be be birds blame; boredom, bothersome bound bozo! bread bunk. can cannot Clean complete. dance. Deliver descendants' Develop Disregard do Don't drip drive dry dump early exits; Filleting Forget game glimmer, grimace; have humour. If In intercessions: is is is issues it it it; Know like like like magic. Marsh massive. me Memory mirrors more movements. No Notice of of Other pain, Panic possible rank Record Regard regret. right, scales; Screw self. shake Sideward skewed; Skulls Slow slow someone songs? Stale still that the the the the their There time. to to to Too tribunals, Tributaries unafraid understand Use useful; Virtue washers Words Would you you you your yourself, yourself.

Words like Battleships, corrected by Microsoft Word

Words like battleships a glimmer, a grimace; sideward bound and unafraid Marsh movements. Deliver me slow as you like it other bothersome tribunals, Tributaries of boredom, No more intercessions: Memory dump complete. Would the ancient birds understand their descendants' songs? There is always pain, Panic magic. Too early to drive - Skulls drip dry in rank humour. Screw as you like it; Use washers to avoid issues of shake Develop scales; Stale bread can still be useful; don’t do it again, bozo! Clean the mirrors - Filleting time. Always have someone to blame; Notice all possible exits; be the dance. Record you, Regard yourself. Disregard yourself. Know that the game is always skewed; Forget regret. If you cannot be right, be massive. Virtue is bunk.

Words Like Battleships (freed)

Words like battleships A glimmer, a grimace; Sideward bound and unafraid Marsh movements. Deliver me slow Slow as you like it Other bothersome tribunals, Tributaries of boredom, No more intercessions: Memory dump complete. Would the ancient birds understand their descendants' songs? There is always pain, Panic magic. Too early to drive - Skulls drip dry In rank humour. Screw as you like it; ; Use washers to avoid issues of shake Develop scales; Stale bread can still be useful; Don't do it again, bozo! Clean the mirrors - Filleting time. Always have someone to blame; Notice all possible exits; Be the dance. Record yourself, Regard yourself. Disregard your self. Know that the game is always skewed; Forget regret. If you cannot be right, be massive. Virtue is bunk.

Words Like Battleships (raw)

Automatic poem. 5am, April 1, 2014. Too dark to see the paper I was writing on. This is the raw version.

A glimmer, a grimace

Sideward bound and unafraid

Marsh movements

Deliver me slow

Slow as you like it

Other bothersome tribunals

Tributaries of boredom

No more intercessions

Memory dump complete

Would the ancient birds understand their descendants' songs?

There is always pain

Panic magic

Too early to drive

Skulls drip dry

In rank humour

Screw as you like it

Use washers to avoid issues of shake

Develop scales

Stale bread can still be useful

Don't do it again, bozo

Clean the mirrors

Filleting time

Always have someone to blame

Notice all possible exits

Be the dance

Record yourself

Regard yourself

Disregard your self

Know that the game is always skewed

Forget regret

If you cannot be right, be massive

Virtue is bunk