when another says they don´t
believe in luck
when you say good luck

i mean what the f
are we about to dance
a life long romance

we might die..or,
goodbye and mmm
what else..

dear crow

a sad alien does´nt bare
thinking on
(they´ve been watching us on
spanish afternoon television..)
surely, they are not real
how would they be..

swollen and ghostly
to feel nothing
no see-no line or something
bijou tears and no gravity
with little spaced hankie
no love to take off..

post card from a blue alien:
arrived by the stone
some sort of gathering

we blended in-everyone
was friendly..tried e..
there was poetry

the sun rose and there
was splendour so
young and old..

met a black crow
he said hello..
missin home o..a..

i

poetry is food and food
is poetry-the soul will shrivel
if it is terrible then so

throw a silver piece dude
into a bottomless well
and go no..

no..without it..universal
love and time so
genius and the fool

hand in hand
shared-crude tool
why, say people

o subtle little stand
some twaddle
death and renewel

the loving land
a quick cuddle-
her or his hand

try and keep track
like a diary book
like a distant f

dinner in front of
the computer
carrot soup and

quiche
poor or rich
does n´t matter..

kidnapped by aliens?
on you go..
tell us you woke up

with a sore ***-hole..
and more power to you
make it good though

don´t rush..don´t they say
god is in the detail
(i say and too often

i know..)and i go on
i know..finnishing is tricky
motion is my thing..

ii

travel i liked travel
now,i am frightened to put
my head out..

memory will do that
i realize now -but with all
the ***** cognac i imbibed

tis´wonder i can remember
but with the computer and a
nice cup of tea..

i was death and now i am life
well change baby..
viva la differences

the bat cat and rat
the chinese i admire
don´t you

i felt universal love
to strangers but now
i want to **** them-

such is life change baby
old and grumpy..lol..
i was so dumb

i thought got to do
something baby
apart from drinking..

i was going from alcoholic to
chronic..a book by..it is called the grass
arena..

john something-i have to move..john
healy..how a drinking man became
a chess champion..

saved me bacon..i picked up my
guitar and said right..
and then i thought what about painting

and so on..i thought i was good  but..
therapy..penny whistle followed
violin and mandolin

heal me..save it..baby..
reading..i think i have covered crime
and punisment quite extensively-

in other poems i know
my girl friend hit me with it-bam..
it hurt but i read it..

and dostoyevski..what a guy..
from their i got into the russians
when i think of a book

some memory is attatched
and love and redemption
sonia and rodney..

his lovely mother and dunya..
mr luhzin
and my sore head..siberia..

she is interacting with
her audience-
off to the cider tent guys?
here´s a thought, scientists

alter the universe by observing
it..get all metaphysical on yers..!?
ever get stuck in the dance tent on
acid..?
ha..technology is a curse..

back to the caves..!
back to the garden of eden
a wave!
call har- caw..caw..innocent..