Saturday, March 27, 2010

What are governments and why do they feel they have the right to impose law?

My piss smelt like barbeque flavored crisps today.
And looked like iron bru.
I wouldn't drink it even if the person in charge
at the foreign legion
told me too.
Which apparently a friend of mine had to do.
To prove he was a man.
Whatever, an x girlfriend of mine drank her own piss,
Not for sexual pleasure,
Just to see what it tasted like.
Apparently neither nice nor foul.
A bit like fish eyes.
The first time I ate them,
my friend didn't tell me not to crunch the hard bit.
The rest was neither nice nor foul,
but the hard bit was chalky and foul.
Another friend of mine,
when very young
ate his own poo
because it brown and looked like chocolate.
His mum considered this a taboo, and said no.
I think I agree with his mum.
My friend's wife one day,
came home with a highly venomous snake,
she chased through their field and clubbed to death
with a bit of bamboo.
She cooked it into a great soup.
She wasn't afraid of mice either.
They got married when they were 14,
and are completely in love.
With two children called guitar and a name I forget,
but again sounds like a romanic word.
I've never fancied the ultimate taboo,
eating a person.
But some people have, when in desperate need.
I guess everybody has a point in their lives,
When to survive.
You break all your own rules.
Just so you can see your family and friends again.

What are governments and why do they feel they have the right to impose law?

Wednesday, March 17, 2010


I have found peace in many places,
Harvesting rice, before sitting down to eat last seasons.
Swapping choices cuts with friends,
Passing a glass of strong moonshine.
Because beer seems bottled and extravagant.

Or different times, living in Muslim communities,
Where alcohol is frowned upon.
So you eat chicken in peanut sauce,
Swap stories and jokes in languages barely understood.
Watching the red dawn over adobe huts.

Or laying the last brick in house I once built.
Before giving it away because I became restless.
But the sun set over mountains there.
Which have always seemed permanent.
And by consequence superior.

Or lying in naked arms,
Thinking of children and families.
In that moment after orgasm,
When the world shrinks to two.
With slow Saturdays, tea, crumpets and dreams.

Watching a snake move with unsurpassed elegance
Through a mulberry tree.
A river flowing never slightly in the distance.
Jungle mountains whom really know their trees
I wonder if they know me – their voyeur.

Riding an endless mountain road.
Through clouds and storms.
Cold and hot, the potholed tarmac
Stretching into an unknown distance.
With cities and sugary fruit shakes.

Holding hands on a town bench.
Sometime passed closing time.
With a shared brown papered bottled.
With jokes about the world
And the Monday to come.

So now it is skyscrapers and crowded streets
Where I find peace.
In a swirling mass of impersonal humanity.
But somehow this makes sense, the unknown passenger
next to me, bumping into me with the rock of the train.

Lost in their own thoughts, their own world now.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

My Table Top

Cold coffee pot
lap top
unplugged headphones
dental floss
half full wine glass
half used citronella candle
loose change
ice cream bowl
flat keys
leaking ashtray
Tabasco sauce pizza hut package
irregularly heaped receipts for goods
ATM evidence
tissues (used and packaged)
fruit bowl full of sugar free lollipops
ripped hard drive box
hard drive
hard drive instructions (unopened)
water jug
water glass
another water glass
read books
unread books
half read book
open dvd cases
gas bill
half full fag packet
empty fag packet
cellophane wrapper with price tag
(devoid of mother's day card)
take away menu
maxican hat
empty beer cans
printed out photos of english countryside
cables connecting me to the world and speakers
and dirt
my life on my coffee table