(1986)
Four march hares dashing, Running right to left, From my window. Three march hares dash back, Running left to right,
Political correctness has gone mad… I’ll scream. And shout. And mak… I’ll plan a march from town to tow… I’ll write a poem to express my th… We’ll ask a name to design a shirt…
Christmas may be merry, Or then it may be not. It may be filled with loss and mis… People who’re not there and wishin… They were.
How easily he cries, these days, With thoughts of you. He lies. These days,
Like when my darling Matt threw back his head on the back seat of the car and at the top of his five year old voice triumphed, “and I wish you joy,” (oh what a tremolo), “and happiness,...
Honour yourself with all your hear… LGBT may be your homies but neve… If people are offended by who you… There is nothing straight acting a… There is nothing masculine or femi…
I don’t want to hear that. What it was you said. No son of mine could be like that. I’d rather you were dead! Things we shouldn’t talk about.
Crisp cold crunch of boots through… Silent, skeletal trees, hiding lit… Yet, you must watch for movement i… For fire dragons can sleep in stea… Still.
Oh I waited for you once in a whi… Kicking my blue sandalled toes aga… Regardless of the scuff. You were busy. I was an accessory.
The fog off the sea has eaten the… gone! Silver sheen, light all night. Cow shapes still! Laying down the circles crown! P…
I don’t care, What you say. Your words mean nothing, Any more. You try to say,
Today I invested some time. In, The space between the spaces. Pushing through gaps thinner than… A particle here,
I threw all my poems into the bin When I was young, I’d studied the way of the human p… By Freud and Jung. I felt they would make me feel
I don’t do drugs, I don’t do sex. I don’t like hugs, I don’t like pecs. I don’t do dunes or nudey beach.
When life was young we ran with th… Voice of the vortex shouting in ou… Our arms spread wide, coat edges e… Our hair ran in rivulets riding th… Joy, fear, fire in our veins as ob…