I listen
The phone is hot with your voice
Busby has been knocked off the line by the sound waves
And
I listen

1. Get up. Have coffee. Grapefruit. Eat it leaning on the kitchen counter with the door open, looking out into the yard and admiring the view and the beauty of the light shining through the trees.

2. Dress. Wear a freshly laundered linen shirt, a hemp jacket, and have a crisp white cotton hanky in your pocket.

3. Leave the house. Make something of life, that will allow your immortality through the respect and trust given by others.

Where
 am
  I
Now
 tomorrow
  next, and
when
 we meet –
  who
do you see?

Found by the bin, 1 October 2004. Perhaps it should have been in the bin? Amended 15 May 2005

She said: why don’t you love yourself?
He said: why don’t you fuck me?

Amended 22 May 2005

I remember
as I walk
nervous
to see you
that sudden smile
glowing
from across the room
and your friend
behind me
coming through the door

If you cut off my head with an axe
the brain would escape through the gap in the neck
and run acros the executioner’s platform
like a clockwork spider with a rusty spring

I am the thing your parents warned you about
on dark nights
at halloween

I am the curse of wasted talent
of bad temper and inner
rage

I am why you should keep focus,
push yourself, and make your belief
your goal

Amended 15 May 2005

It was the old steel city
a rolling metal landscape
once home to the daily march
of the thousands of workers,

an army for the
People’s Republic of South Yorkshire
trudging in hobnail boots in grime valleys
by the temptation of corner pubs.

And now, the old army is retired
replaced by troops of new media
of call centres and button pressing
in the mazes of customer support.

Remember, as you walk down by the
Vickers? This was the journey thousands
made every day, for their keep, and
the country’s industry,

before it rotted, and the route
changed to one for cars
travelling to the shopping centre,
to catch the imported bargains in bright boxes.

And the city fathers look down from
their old general resting place as
the old place vanishes
brick after brick.

They rest easy as they supported
the change, paid for in education
and the tide of students,
clinging to the hope of their results.

Even as the phone
doesn’t ring
your picture remains
in mind