79. And Tender Too?

for David Houssart

Wakey! wakey!
loud rumbling
dogs akimbo
I’ve got
susurrations aswell
I’ve I’ve
seen that
I know
some do
the dark
the strangeness
then this
dread of
imitation most

time to
write it
all down
a flash
a paradise
illumination then
this rumbling
again – it’s
trolley time

off it?
off her?
remember her?
come round
loud steps
we’re dancing!
all with
Gracie in
the streets
rainy streets
of Rheged

not disordered
never so
no matter
we thought
we’d be
we’re here
all ways
at last
sorry today
Essex marches
the dogs
look friendly
we move
freely now

hold on
when young
let go
when old

we shouldn’t
buy things
some say
but make
it all
our selves
a creed
for only
the lonely
this sunny
shopping centre
it’s all
eternal delusions
so what
we are
bubbles only
no more

memory is
dust is
old songs
dreaming again
half heard
expect less
no less

sweeney blag
desirable risk
openplan bank?
no solution
no one
asked us
the criminals

a tapir
in the
flesh itself
more babies
more songs
all eyes
just look

hold on
move around
hang loose
& light
when young
when old
the same
let go
what holds
you not
its opposite
yeah?
      yeah
sure thing
we guess
sure thing

77. Some Sloppy Debris, Unabased, Yet as Tragically True as Everything Else

And then in a paradise of sea & boats
the surf ran its sloppy debris up
OK, not dark native mud, just sand
polished clean as words, as bones
we play upon once and ever

Cast up at Broadstairs yet again
oh, family things – you know, that compulsion
paint peels then slowly renewed
but the foreign students wander yet
                                – lost on the same maps
                      circumstances do come round again
edges softened & removed through rolling erosions
picked over continually by gulls & ravens
fr a late-blooming career at Thanet Cat Shelter
helping run workshops in the new Town Shed
yes! all boons to elderly gentlemen & blokes
the sea & the sun cast us all up here
daily patrolling The Esplanade w/ ice creams
childhood repeated more slowly this time
even français: oo-where is thee boating-poule?
please sirr? no matter
stick w/ the seagulls & do what you do

Let’s play on the bouncy castle first!
it’s a fine tall young giraffe we see
tenderly holding us & uplifting lightly
I could believe
                (if I wasn’t dead
it was just birth I’d come through not
all the slow mucky stuff at this end

Let’s catch the bubbles though!
they’re birds & worlds & words & brief
yes, like all of this, fat slippery
membranes holding nothing from nothing

Time – – no, not for nothing here
it’s all gone, long gone, a dream
that this wasn’t a dream, or that praise
will still buy us out from somewhere where
there isn’t an out:
                    the world here
alone & fragile now as always

Brutish it is, then brutish it must be
we can all start again at Totnes – oh
real mud along the Dart, smelling of nutmeg
are we lowly or just the dead giants?
yeah, both I guess & the mud not
as much spicy as oozily vital

Poets, you poets haven’t any age
not any more than tidal litter
it’s a grand life beached up here
planning on our next break through
we’re all food for sandhoppers, son
daughter, all the other people gathered up
is this the really The Esplanade?
at last & at here, attention then

76. Sometimes Poets Just Wanna Have Fun!

for Martock,  and   everyone   I   knew  there
for Martock,  and   everyone   I   knew  there
up  Martock,  and   everyone   I   knew  there
up  Harlow,   and   everyone   I   knew  there
up  Harlow, though  everyone   I   knew  there
up  Harlow, though everything  I   knew  there
up  Harlow, though everything you  knew  there
up  Harlow, though everything you praise there
up  Harlow, though everything you praise  here
up  Harlow, though everything you praise  here
1

Yes, fish are  glittering &  slippery2
Yes, fish are  glittering &  slippery
But, fish are  glittering &  slippery
But, men  are  glittering &  slippery
But, men shine glittering &  slippery
But, men shine  actually  &  slippery
But, men shine  actually but slippery
But, men shine  actually but remedied
But, men shine  actually but remedied

Cooking  is  what cooking is3
Cooking  is  what cooking is
Peppered is  what cooking is
Peppered has what cooking is
Peppered has how  cooking is
Peppered has how  sloppy  is
Peppered has how  sloppy can
Peppered has how  sloppy can

Let    us  be  thankful for that which   is4
Let    us  be  thankful for that which   is
Leave  us  be  thankful for that which   is
Leave them be  thankful for that which   is
Leave them say thankful for that which   is
Leave them say  tender  for that which   is
Leave them say  tender  as  that which   is
Leave them say  tender  as  this which   is
Leave them say  tender  as  this there   is
Leave them say  tender  as  this there must
Leave them say  tender  as  this there must

So  here it  is  like the debris  of   a   former  world5
So  here it  is  like the  debris of   a   former  world
And here it  is  like the debris  of   a   former  world
And what it  is  like the debris  of   a   former  world
And what she is  like the debris  of   a   former  world
And what she ate like the debris  of   a   former  world
And what she ate was  the debris  of   a   former  world
And what she ate was  my  debris  of   a   former  world
And what she ate was  my migrants of   a   former  world
And what she ate was  my migrants off  a   former  world
And what she ate was  my migrants off your former  world
And what she ate was  my migrants off your fertile world
And what she ate was  my migrants off your fertile   mud
And what she ate was  my migrants off your fertile   mud

[Though eating mackerel  reminds me somehow of childhood
 Though eating mackerel  reminds me somehow of childhood
 For    eating mackerel  reminds me somehow of childhood
 For    ending mackerel  reminds me somehow of childhood
 For    ending congeries reminds me somehow of childhood
 For    ending congeries abased  me somehow of childhood
 For    ending congeries abased you somehow of childhood
 For    ending congeries abased you always  of childhood
 For    ending congeries abased you always  in childhood
 For    ending congeries abased you always  in    nutmeg
 For    ending congeries abased you always  in    nutmeg]
6

 

 

1 human intellect

 

 

2 Nothing

 

 

3 this supreme experience

 

 

4 the reality of his intellect

 

 

5 when he returns from such contemplation

 

 

6 full of divine and inflowing splendour

75. A Recipe for Smoked Mackerel on Cabbage

for Martock, and everyone I knew there (and at Yeovil Grammar School – though how I rejoice that institution has long been totally dismantled!)

Yes, fish are glittering & slippery
always leave me a little unsure
but here my imperfect grasp is remedied
through already processed product which
cook themselves up minimally problematically
& remind me always of the mackerel men
selling the catch off the backs of lorries
straight up from West Bay1
the nearest bit of coast due South to Martock
so holidays there meant a caravan by West Bay’s shingle2
& this isn’t how anyone ever ate in Martock anyway
grilled or fried with potatoes & peas or boiled cabbage
which you don’t need me to tell you how to make
but this dish much more full of divine & inflowing splendour

Cooking is what cooking is
and what food is has everything
to do with the infilling of imaginary’s belly3
as pragmatic a reason as possible please
so make whatever approximation you would like
it’ll be true as anything else: 4 or so smoked mackerel fillets
                                – peppered is great
                                an onion (or half)
                                a carrot (or half)
                                some mushrooms
                                white cabbage
                                              a fair amount
                                              all split into shards
                                (or you can veer from
                                the type & bastard mix
                                always good – nice
                                pointed spring cabbage yes
                                and some greens
                                                even kale
                                                not any savoy
                                – misguided & a fault I find)4
                                a little marrow
                                                or courgette5
                                a pepper green & shiny
                                maybe some peas
                                and some things lighter also
                                                        watercress
                                                        broccoli sprouts
                                                        or chard
                                                        even lettuce
                                plus added to all these
                                                        ground pepper
                                maybe some chillies
                                or your favourite chilli sauce
                                important the fish sauce of Vietnam
                                & a little soy a must

Let us be thankful for that which is
& whatever congeries of vegetables have come through
reverberating endlessly
sliced finely to hand
                      – except those you’ll use softly
                        as a bed above the rest
then fry up the onions, carrots
                                & the chillies
                                (if you like
& add in the cut up vegetables
all within a large & heavy pan
let them begin to work & season now
w/ a bit of pepper & a little soy & added too
a useful splash of fishy sauce
then cover for a little
say 10 minutes or more
& like a melting glacier rich juices begin to form beneath
drop on your soft bed of more tender leaves or shoots
& add the mackerel after them
                              then cover again
you can leave it be on a lower heat
for half an hour or less – no
                              fashionably wilted greens but
a thick & mixed up British mud of vegetable & liquor
serve this lovely stodginess with rice
                                       – it’s nice!
                                       (still we are children in some kind

So here it is like the debris of a former world
recast as something newer, dark & nutritious
food like compost to nourish up your belly
leaving you heavy but full of fertile vigour

[Though eating mackerel reminds me somehow of childhood, we actually rarely ate them – I think my mother, East London middle-class, was a little uneasy about fish sold off of lorries on the village street. But, she’d approve the nourishment & all the vegetables. The recipe was suggested to me again by Ginie (& it’s like a Chinese hotpot dish6), but ending up usually played out this way (depending on what material there is). It is a matter of inhabiting, in the food, and in the writing, what actually you do inhabit, and inhabiting it fully, even down to the dark rich lower depths that are what we spring from & must return to. Not Dorset shingle, but Somerset mud. Not purified origins, but that appalling multitextual sea we drift on.]

 

 

1 now chichi incomer artisanal Dorset – Café Surf at last

 

 

2 the alternative was Burnham mud

 

 

3 thus making it constant & real. And, yes, Keston, we are what we ate – are you not a materialist, then?

 

 

4 steam it & it’s delicious – serve buttered (w/ a little nutmeg & lemon juice also, plus pepper)

 

 

5 a mock-heroic marrow – either adds a little added substance like sweet stodginess

 

 

6 hmm – might work well with glass noodles included? – & preserved radish, yes

66. All The Comradeship of Deviant Art: A Praise Song by the Crowd of People Welcoming the Vagrants & Migrants Into Our City

for all my students at Harlow & Braintree, a goodly crowd

If we praise you
we praise ourselves
for we are all
the lowly people of this place

If we praise you
we praise our children
for they too bring hope
for what does not change
is the will to change
our children and yours
shall carry that on again

If we praise you
we praise our gods
familiar & flourishing
as fully here
as we or you
unabased we face them
& raise up their images
all the gods
upon the trees of this world
& all the others
their faces shine
let your faces shine
let our faces shine
radiating life between us

If we praise you
we praise our poets
for they were all strangers once
before they fell fertile & uttered

If we praise you
we praise our cousins
the blessed holothurians
lovely & sloppy
never to be eaten
addressed w/ a smile of delight

If we praise you
we praise all the moths
& all the foxes too of this town around