Flickertape

Through the tumbledown town the tumbleweed blown by the lateness

of wind that flew like a swan unused to stretching her wings, comes

a tattoo of the morning that rises with breakfast and brings hope with

the postmen and the howling of cats on the tiles.

I have slept, walked, burnt and burst a hundred thousand miles in my search for the questions to question each answer I get and I get nothing but more answers to question the questions and each answer cancels the answer before

I wonder what answering questions is for, but for questions to answer and each one the cancer, no kill and no cure.

The swan flys away, the wind dies away, the tumbleweed brown in the tumbledown town blows away and there is but for another day my life in a nutshell.

We’re daft and we know it

we’re daft and we know it  a short film by Daniel Baldwin featuring the voice of the pantechniconpoet

Circling Whitehall

 

Will you listen to what they are telling you?
can you listen to what they say?
‘the future’s not in tomorrow,the
future was yesterday’
and may god have mercy on me.
Today is blank
and who do I thank for that?

Time doth surely flee from thee,

(sod off Shakespeare this is about me)

If they are telling me this,then I know it is that
and they can wax lyrical on the world being spherical,
I point to a clerical error, a mistake in perspective
which makes what they say
(in one word)
deceptive.

And who might they be?

They be the grey men
the men who say when men,
the dead and the deadpan with looks that say,
‘no man’ and signs that read,
entry forbidden,
hidden from sight.
The only chance of reprieve from they who deceive is to leave and having left,there’s a fork in the road,a cleft,a right way,a left,
will you listen
to what
they
are telling you?