Weekend Poetry: Paul Scholes' foot, and other poems

Paul Scholes’ foot

keep your enemies close
& your southern cross-border (despite what you say) tactile friends
reeling for a connection
kiss them finally
borderless sex is the logical conclusion
bondage your primeministerial material of tabloid culture
dethrone come what may those scheming to crush dissenting veteran upstarts
those harking back in spin & headline 

harking back

back to a kind of Who Won The War aggression
in the air circa 1992
loitering in the precinct chasing out Johnny Foreigners
meting out steely punishment
an explosion classed both foreign and domestic
regenerated Barcelona of the North
in a pub salvaged brick by brick I stood on Paul Scholes’ foot


tree trunk emerging from pavement slats
what I meant to post was light at the end of the tunnel
sunk into a sofa all weekend surrounded by pizza boxes pills
stream-bathing nightmare hippy girl Jessa
slashing at my flesh with a razor blade
there’s thousands of them
stored on memory cards hard drives sagging clouds
after conversion
a perversion a neurotic choice
I was alive in a yurt on a cliff by the ocean at Big Sur
flanked by a bouncer & a gangland enforcer obsessed with winning
Don rendered by Jon urgently needing detox
unready to have his private parts refreshed
returned to New York and succumbed to speculation threw himself from a tower
in an alternative ending he branded an empire


pink vibes pop like champagne
a flamingo
this is nice like eating a phantasmagorical bar of chocolate 

a butterfly delivers a tsunami
a flock of pigeons overhead
I’m scared to board planes 

I’m scared about the planet we’re consuming
the disconnect between our rich hemisphere and poor mental health
is not a topic young people are educated on 

a world divided vertically
which confuses me
if this is my future I don’t want it

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