Move two steps forward, five steps back, now hopscotch with five small children who do this regularly – finely chop a small crow, MAKE SURE YOU’RE SMILING, great, we need positive energy, positive energy,

JUST PIVOT OVER THE DEAD CHILD, PIVOT, so positive energy, now react to the LARGE BANG, and the other LARGE BANG, run this assault course in jeggings – but as if you’re in a blizzard, and while holding two take-out coffees. That take-out coffee should be sustainable and in a reusable cup and thoroughly disinfected.

The blizzard – is INSIDE your mind. Is it you’re or your? It doesn’t ultimately matter as autocorrect will make it wrong for you.  POSITIVE energy, as in you POSITIVELY hate this.

You’ve forgotten the crow, which we finally chopped earlier? And you haven’t been SMILING. You appear to have written your to-do lists on toilet paper, and something unspeakable has happened. Also, there’s a considerable amount of blood in the kitchen.

Yes, it was intended for you to eat the crow, hence the finely chopping, and we did kind of botch that. You left it where? Well we’ll have to go backwards over the assault course, don’t forget the ice-water immersion, while wearing pyjamas and screaming about your lost youth.

Where did you put your youth? He’s 14-15, wears a baggy coat, which contains a lot of vodka, his hair is ethereal white, his eyes piercing purple. It’s alright, they’ve found him! He was holding up a liquor store, which is where he got the vodka. And here’s the crow. It’s only a little bit contaminated by the nuclear event. That was the large BANG earlier. The second one. At some point you stopped paying attention. But you should keep smiling, as otherwise it’s going to get really bad.

Now the pandas have taken New York, no I’m not sure what you can do about that either. Probably something positive.

Have you considered SHOCK THERAPY? Correct, this is a version of it. And it’s ongoing.


Scorched Earth

So, how’s your year been?
He wandered past like he’d appeared from a dream.
She narrowed her eyes and fixed him with a look he couldn’t quite place.
Were there highs and lows?
Were there joys and sorrows?
He waves overhead where a quarrel of sparrows soar and swerve.
Perhaps you saw great sights of great wonder.
Perhaps, she spits.

I’ve watched epic tales of chaos and disaster,
Endlessly on screens and through glass,
To disappear and reappear – in new threats
Ignored, downplayed and lied away.
I’ve seen the predicted come to fruition, just as they said.
Just as they said –
Like it were newsworthy.
I’ve seen them ignore Death – when it stands scythe ready –
in their eyeline.
But it rarely cuts down the self-serving.
I’ve seen the real world – behind the mask.

I’m not gonna bang my pots and pans at my doorstep.
Not that I ever did.
I’m not gonna take a fixed walk down a dark path.
Not that I ever did.
I’m going to sink to my knees
and scream.

They say how’s your year been?
Were there highs and lows?
Were there joys and sorrows?
Can you line it up in neat little checklists?
Did you bake, make, consume, achieve?
Are there improvements that can be made? Fine-tuning for the year to come.
They want joy when all I’ve got is a Glasgow-smile.
All I can say is I survived.
I held out till the finish line – only to learn there was more to bear.

Was there patience and despair?
And fear and fear and fear and…

Are your synapses fried?

Might you burn down a green field just to see the dust-cloud rise; the smoke.
Just for the distraction of the all-consuming destruction.
Watching that clean break from choking reality sanitizing everything.
The roaring fire – so close – so easily spread
Across thresholds.

I’m not gonna bang my pots and pans on my doorstep.
Not that I ever did.
I’m not gonna take a fixed walk down a dark path.
Not that I ever did.

Provided I have a voice,
left that can draw a breath,
that’s not bereft or ,
washed away like pebbles to sea.

I’m going to sink to my knees and scream.
I’m gonna howl into the motherfucking wind.
That’s how my year’s been.