Kirkstall Abbey Ruins

Litmus hoax the
Old soul's antechamber against still tall
Drip-feed yellow vines
Stands a bullet arch into the stars
Plotted with no quack's map home

A wrestler of animals
Wrought from celestial
Half-headed gods in typography
With arms over and into arms
Stony, pious
Despairingly beautiful in silhouette

I wrote first from the flat earth to everywhere
Skimming the crop-circle landing site with my fingers and toes for clues
From the nineteen-fifties

Dew
The ground is still soft from the prints of one or two
Who saw the whale as a comet
Disappearing

Twist or Twist

Self-latening
Knotted helix wander
Through a caravan brick pile
Theatre of resting strangers on green shoulders
Permanetly engrossed in their closet winter shoreline story

Lampshade sun droning on about
This time last year
Same sensation
Different circumstances it
Cools towards the channel
Sieving the air for brambles and moths
Archiving

Home
From the carpark
We walked here across military fields
In supple arches to this postcard-themed
Park of cloud hostels
Marigold
Fibre-glass clock tower
Isolate grammar in conversation

Each plot a dot of white ink
With chocks in the soil

Drive back
Because the town closes at six
Boarded up from the scouring
Trampling waves
The cold wailing cannonade
Spraying up in chords from the tiles

Between molecules and
Dancing tableware
A piece of time has departed

Beneath the storm
Cliffs of emerald water

I was a windmill

Bring me
The cold and fire
The crest of a wrong
Turn
Bring me
Coarse air
Dewy spider web in hawthorns
Bring me
November
Bulletproof

Get serious and fearlessly
In love
Get sent home
I was a windmill
I was arrested

Stay out of trouble

The movies have a lot to answer for
I think they have to answer for
Everything that has not moved

In a rainbow
Colour is thrown at me from the surface of petrol, a soap bubble
Refracted Hollywood architecture
Interference reds, blues,
Greens so pin a badge on the next time this really happens...

(But I was of no mind for a documentary)

Leave after an hour
Walk home along canal flash railway electric
Heavy rolling-eyed headlights beam up millstone violet clouds
Terrace orange on dimpled water
Crane breeze of a silent theatre from across the tracks

Forget the elbow that wasn't there
See by the filament a single drop of water
Falling from iron-bridge bones into a tarmac lake
At home open a window, a zoo, a cathedral, a pilot-light
A license to stay out of trouble

DDA

With limbs and
Arms a
Slight
And heavy heart
The years have dug to build me
Hands, nerves
Prints
Eyes, knees, nails

Ears
For midnight singers
From the natural world to riot in cave black heat under stars

Charles, Richard, Daivd
I can't imagine anything worse that certainty
Sundays are for the insects and water in the universe

Nightway

4
8
Pass under spotlights drill
Silted fluorescing beats

Thick nuclear linen
Ghost cruicible tunnel tracks join
A consonant pnuematic stream
Of dashing white cells' late Morse code

Either side the biggest
And most linear sprayed out
Haunted arms glowing
In heedless old surveillance orange
Feeling out beyond the circles' grades to dial night

Within these orbits fall
Self-deleting files to dew the carpet-dust air
Green up-standing rows of slim lean over
Obelisk roots and tables
Concrete the barely troubled low shadow arc
Silo columns scribbled with cracks and one eye leading
The other

Fire-line horizon
Traced curves and freckles mark a lowing valley
Behind verge sapling screens
Crisp lit ancient tin spoke fingers swaying in the broadcast

Thread down to
A flood chip basin settled from fallow country language
Gated rail-fenced TV recording shells
Container malls, diverted hatch rivers and homes

Exit fissure climb left and
Weave tincture kite-strings in silver, red
As fibre crystal optic blue
Blinking notes repeat a changing stillness

8 times
4 times
4 times
Two