MY NEW HAT

You make me happy what you said

So please say it once again over and over

Again more. I refuse to admit to

Loneliness, because I don’t know if I know

What loneliness is. I’m sure

There are degrees, as in

Going around in circles,

Because some people think,

And although I don’t do that much

Because I think it can lead to pain and distress

I think when I can be bothered to at all

They think the world is mathematical

Or based on some kind of unfeelingness

And I think alright, maybe, perhaps, and

There are degrees of loneliness and sadness

And happiness and solipsism, about

Which I know an awful useless amount,

Most of which I got off Google one evening

When the image downloads weren’t working

And sleep was not an option, and I am

Alone, but there is an imaginary world

So I am not very alone, and you say things

And I reply and you reply and I reply again

(This goes on a while….)

So the conversation is almost perfect

Which proves it’s not real, but

You say things over and over again

To make me happy, for which

I thank you, from the bottom of the pit

Of my heart I thank you, but

That’s not a place you’d want to go

I think, my heart’s pit, and I’m not even

One of my own admirers,

I’m the kind of man who can’t even

Get out of his own way, and Oh, incidentally,

I have a new hat, and I know you are thinking

Is it a funny hat or a serious hat? I don’t know,

All I can say for sure is it’s brown.

 TODAY I FEEL ILL THOUGH

I’ve been trying, so very trying

So hard to picture this for some days:

A silver plated copper box with breasts

You said you’d bought, but

My imagination isn't what it was.

Reality has kind of rendered it

Almost redundant. The shapeless people,

Meanwhile, are taking over the world.

If they had chins they would be scary.

And so I run into the corridor to see

What all the fuss is about and it’s

I bet you thought I was going to tell you

But I’m not going to tell you. Oh please

Be with me under a high blue sky

And this dandy sun. You know I like

You, don’t you? You know I’m

Kind of pathetic, don’t you? I’m falling

Asleep now, into that bewildering world

Where dreams come true. Your replies

Bewilder me also, though I guess

My statements don’t leave you much

Room for manoeuvre. Ha ha! Have you

Noticed how everything repeats itself

Itself? Ha ha! I don’t know what to do.

I am in a boat and I have just crossed

A river and I think the only way I can

Go ahead is to break the woks

And sink the boat so I have

No choice. Give me a choice and I will

Go back, go back and have a cup

Of tea and be comfortable again. Look,

The beer girl is at the bus stop and

I can’t stop looking at her and she can’t

Start looking at me. Two weeks later

She’ll smile, but not today. The impossible

People are plotting to take over the world

And if we’re lucky they’ll do it.

Raise the flags. We’ve had enough,

Almost, but maybe we can stand just

A little more. Or crouch, as I crouch

Behind the bush waiting to pounce the way

I pounce on the unsuspecting and foreign.

And where will you keep your little

Box with the things, and did you know

I live in a Chinese box, separate and alone?

Close to the sun when it sets, close

To the sun when it rises. And the one

Follows the one, and the rest continues

On, and the singers tra-la with it,

And the mornings are difficult, and

The rest of the day somewhat brightens

As if there is hope. I hear from the other

Side sometimes, and it makes no sense.

I thought they loved me, but they don’t.

I think they adore me, and they sure do.

If nothing else I am good to have a drink

With, good to plunder, dream, not be.

Or crouch, as they crouch waiting

To be beaten down again, to be slammed

Into the dead history books and never seen

Again. Yes, the workers are important

But not that fucking important, because

There are millions of them so we can

Spare a few. Oh this is such a sweet

Little box to live in, such a sweet place.

I forgive myself my comforts. It’s

Not difficult to talk to you from this

Far reach, this furthest reach, this

Great distance. It’s not difficult to

Be a guest at an unwanted dinner. So

Anyway, let me ask you about this box.

What on earth use is it, what on earth

And why? Perhaps in it you can keep

Every word I send you. Does it

Have a bottomless bottom? Is it

Washable? Perhaps you could get

A companion piece and in that keep

Your own stuff. Once upon a time, once

In a world I have almost forgotten

But it refuses to go away completely,

I still dweem about it, those nights

I don’t sleep, can’t sleep, won’t sleep.

Sometimes when there is nothing else

To think about I think about how

Sometimes someone says something

And it knocks you fucking sideways

Like a motorcycle come out of

An alley, and it’s your ribs, the ribs

What protect your heart, are smacked

So you spend a while in recovery

But do you ever really recover? I don’t

Think I’ve ever really recovered

But it’s OK, it doesn’t matter,

It’s beyond me to card anymore. I mean

Cart, of course. I no longer cart.

So I forgive myself my comforts,

My beautiful teachers, but today

I feel ill, just a little less than well,

And the last line I just thought of

I decided not to write it down.

PDA

My personal digital assistant…..

Whatever happened to her? Girl

In a coma, boyfriend on his cellphone.

Words, or nothing.

I can’t figure out this machine.

The instructions are in pictures

But I don’t have a clue. I always wanted to be

A detective but somehow it never happened.

Then I wanted to be a technicalician

And that didn’t happen either.

This is the West. This is the East.

I know you could persuade yourself

To forget about me. I know we could have

Different names, and still not be someone else.

Will you do this for me? I need you

Just here, just there. If I add up all the hours

I spent looking at you the answer

Surprises me, because I thought maybe

It was going to be several months,

But years, years take me by surprise,

The way death takes you by surprise

When you’re not expecting it.

THE BEST OF SELVES

I try and think of the word for “Goodbye”

But all I can remember is the word for “Chicken”

And that’s not very useful; often these days

I try and think of a word that will help to

Fix things: the claw hammer is in the shed

Along with a lot of other junk and jumble,

But it’s raining enough to flood the countryside

And I’m not going out to get it, I can’t swim,

Nor do I have a raft, a yacht, or even a coracle,

Although I have always wanted a coracle,

Which once I thought was someone who told you

What was going to happen, but it’s not that,

That’s someone else, and probably they’re just

Kidding anyway, and blessed with a benign

Malevolence, if there’s such a state, which

There must be, because everything exists

Somewhere, even if it’s in another country

Ruled by tyrants who only want what’s good

For you, and I try and think of the word for “Rain”

But all I can come up with is the word for “Poor”,

Which suggests I’m thinking of walking over

To the bars on Bar Street, but I’m not, I gave up

All that a long time ago, when I found I was losing

My thing, what is it? that thing for improvement:

You use it when you try and be your best self.