a postcard

stop snivelling and crying, said the priest
haven´t you got a handkerchief ?
he opened a drawer and gave me a neatly folded square
from the same drawer he produced a photo of a couple fucking
he tossed it onto the table
it´s not a moral universe, said he
it´s chemical and sexual
attraction, desire, negation, rejection
he stood up, I got to my feet
he punched my upper arm playfully
"now, you go out and rip it up ! "
I kissed the ring on the proffered hand,
felt the rough cloth of the sleeve.

as we were saying

for example,
lee perry´s recording studio got burnt down,
the FARC people also grin and laugh.
you can be earnest
a red-hot branding iron in hand
you can stand before the ocean,
the mother of us all,
yes, you can grasp at the winds
whilst the salt air fills your lungs.
the dark hulled ships nearing the shore
will send you scurrying back into your hole,
yes, you´re right to take precautions.

doctor

doctor ! doctor !
I have a problem with my eyes,
it all just passes me by

untitled

I write,
I wish to right my ship
but she´s taken in so much
cold Atlantic water
and cod thrash on the deck.
Seasick, salt crusted,
many, many leagues from port
and the sweetness of women,
I manage to fire a signal rocket for the distressed,
for those who don´t know,
keep working the pumps,
davy jones is putting feelers out for you
keep working the pumps
the masts will break,
you will hallucinate mermaids, porpoises, portuguese men-of-war,
but hydraulics, red and green lights...
yes, you´ll reach land.

the madeleine blues

these are the madeleine blues
where you stare
at an empty wall

these are the madeleine blues
when you avoid
looking in the mirror

these are the madeleine blues
you´re a day late
and a dollar short

and you walk the long road
to sing
the madeleine blues

every second

like some reconvalescent
every inch, every minute counts
that is the savagery of the protestant super-ego
how in god´s name can this stupid child exist and live in this complicated world ??
but the ground sings...

bathwater

the baby, the bathwater:
try to avoid stupid gestures
the word becomes flesh
and the steps you take have meaning
your drunken staggering
and hurling empty beer bottles into the air
could have brought you to the methadone clinic in toronto.
so you are lucky,
some ray of sunshine
warmed you
and your breathing eased,
yes !