STILL LIFE WITH ONION

THE NEW NICO

THIS IS NOT AN ABANDONED VEHICLE

I remember discovering Bukowski on paper

When his words made sense

I was not at art school but Barry was

I went in with cans of beer

To bribe my friend with imbibing 

Whilst his classes went on

I was there to share a vicarious part of student life

And to get a part of the more physical action

We had dreams and read or read and had dreams

Within which the girls became real

All did well for themselves

But I guess it’s a struggle

I didn’t learn much so

I became a postman

Who drank in

What else is there to do after a shift at noon?

The collection

The delivery

Is easier than the composition

I reveled as an ambassador

Presenting monarch embossed packages

After shakingly waking rude people in the a.m.
To be uniformedly approachable in afternoon bars 

It was not legit

To take a van home

Or on an errand

But we drivers did

As management had done before

When you needed to sneak off to the beach

The bookies or do a spot of shopping

A quick snort was forgiven
Or given for

The thing with a Royal Mail trucklet 

Is that they are parkable anywhere

Even on the double yellows

We were safe

Police would sometimes commandeer us for this hi vis purpose

And like-minded criminals in their surveillance knew

I took to abusing the technique 

My car slumbering overnight pubside

Displayed a sign that red

And yellow in its liveried elegance

Explained 

This Is Not An Abandoned Vehicle

But the Real Mail 
On Official Business

HOLDING BEAUTY IN THE EYES

photo from urban wildlife invader, Red Kite...

HAWK and SQUiRREL

guess what happened next....

I'M SPARTACUS! ... er ..SANTA CLAUS!

METAFLOOR

The last time I got up and speaked

Was not for an easy clique

I fell to the floor

My coccyx got sore
And now I can only squeak