as you can

handle

*

you hve time to

think about the brevity

of text messaging

& where the next doughy

piece of c4

will go off

& whose country will

it pock on.

*

when the westfield jingle

comes up

& you hear about

the 700 shops under

one rooftop

you spot yourself slammed

at a counter

asking jane supervisor

where do i find

housewares.

llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch

it’s like this.

you are after 9 & before midday.

you are halfway ~

& in your yard there is the ball sun.

around the world is july

& today your neighbour has

up for the first time a sky dish.

*

you hear trevor call linda

with a place name too long

to get down.

& beginning with a double L.

*

so you make a search for trevor

& the welsh town in english.

*

saint mary’s church

in the hollow of the white hazel

near to the rapid whirlpool

of saint tysilio of the red cave

*

you thank trevor & measure

the welsh at 12cm

anchor me

i go to my house slowly

& eat softly

the radio in my room

dreams me the news of al jazeera

*

i dig up all the stories about

war & sorties

& count dots & crosses for

a queen’s birthday roadtoll

what a swell present

*

i incubate you a joke through

the woods

a ha ha from me in the trees

here is my homepage ~

anchor me.

*

hold onto your helmet

your explorer your SUV

your i d your whereabouts

2

With our atlas of rivers & mountains & rocky roads
in the stony days of the long sounds

Glory To The Trees

You are stopped on the shocks

of your new tyres. To your left

is the lonely hall of St Michael

of All Angels. Who is open & cold

for aerobics. Whose bell’s tongue

does not ring nor

gong. Whose slack geranium

you did not get the colour of.

Where Crewcut your lawn crowd work

even in simple rain. Falling on the slant.

You have missed the dog by mls.

Epiphanies you hear your mouth say

& Glory to the trees – today dog –

you are one lucky sucker.

and-yellow

you realise there is no hope

left for teachers when in the

school newsletter it says

we welcome nichola poor

& look forward to working her.

you want there to be no more bell.

you begin to wish for pills for

your children instead of

lunch from a plastic décor box.

you wonder why their paintings

contain less & less

you begin to sound things out

stretching the oh’s ~

vowels start to look like

phone numbers

3 o’clock looks like a wedge of cake

you are rushing to finish

oh there you are tui

by dinah hawken

& then you hear

ella say:

and-yellow and-yellow and jello

angelo.

& he is

our number 4.

angelo victor ~ nicola wright

the epicentre of an SUV is the heart of the matter.

& this is the story of the weaning

of angelo victor.

*

the radio had gone down.

a chinook was coming into tikrit on its wing & tank