Lascivious Lucubration by Kevin Reid

Salient tropes gather luminous analogies, while inchoate ink blots the mesh of a year’s coda.Raised from warranted dudgeon, abjured arrogance sprawls in a haemal hole. As moist miasmic nubility weeps, an aching bowl,  rusted with  trepid nectar, is venerated. The venereal ease of seductive lies pelts pricks with silver jism, pastes the flesh with clotted pain.A dripping fissure scented daily with a fist of bruised cadaverous knuckles. The thrill as throbbing solace discharges a simper on  raw lips. A blazing fire burns in the bush of the irrational canal extinguished barely by reason’s soul beater, the poet’s pounding quill, or a fuck fiddle plucking pungent pulses. Permeating the ruptured rotunda with polluted pleasure, eating chunks of copulation dipped in ambrosial crapulence, the nourishing nubile frolics with a flesh poke and howls oral nudity at the diminutive devils  sucking joyously on the nipples of her mind. Celluloid muscles bleed with fresh debauchery, assaulting the psyche with a veil of juiced visions, shooting salty pearls into the gushing estuary of lucid  fantasy.


(revised) automatic by Kevin Reid

the sun breathes and the wind  turns into static voices
as I listen to crickets tick a thousand whispers unspoken
I miss the mystery of catching a breath from the mountains
somewhere days cry on a violin and flowers burn
brazen screams squirt seeping stains through my silence
a chasm coloured with bruises clouds the coloured ripples after today’s life
ignorance wastes before the beautiful rain and fresh grass blades smile
as the sky’s eyes drip dreams filled high on wasted time
silence slowly beats into sound and shakes the flag of burning time
turn the page to a numbered sign and cut the wasting ground
reports of lunar friends alone in visions of the universe thinking astray
the taste of bloodless feelings choose routes of that stranger empathy
echoes lift tempos as sleep returns to the secrets drawn in the stars
the night’s side leaves no room to wallow with the devil’s fear
sleep with the lost of the found before I remember the road to travel back
look to your stronger pain and spell out the kill in tomorrow
forgive me as I speak words of  foiled bubbles
carry the world’s gun if you want to hide celluloid drugs in the eyes of people
stand round the corner and lift the head in heaven’s face
laugh the slipping body away from fear because together in dice we die
in a storm time slips into one and hide’s life behind closed eyes
the heart’s piano bleeds lonely drifting ghosts awake
to leave the weight of grief standing alone about the street of my bones
where the rain soaks my resistance far into the earth’s carnival echoes wander without a voice
selling land to the world we fail the narrow rumour of success
sonic jism waves bye bye and drags a mad laugh through my mind
in the daytime a thin town stays underground where the far gone fly and scream me
stay on the horizon of someone’s brain and spit libido free from torture
after all thoughts hold onto nothing older than marching time
I count death tidily smash and plant instinct till it shines blue
a dream held my hand and talked to me of freedom scrubbed in sonic soap
polished with white noise a dead surprise shines in the eyes of a shaken nomad
a strange death where perfect men in perfect uniforms perform their madness
the celebration of the sun teaches us of confused liberty and the science of compliance
in a freakshow tender trumpets blow bubbles at clowns that don’t have painted smiles
space arrives in a glass case displaying pregnant answers to the eye
a stuttering escape from lunacy sells reason short of sense
leaving a sweet face knowing what sing to the golden gape of light.

Fast Times Powdered Rhymes by Kevin Reid

Diluted memories permeate the first dependant loss. Eclipsed by habit casual fun becomes abuse. Through hallucinogenic portals the artist is taunted with a stabbing pleasure, the pen becomes a needle. Constrained by inverted etiquette. Tripping into a razor wind with the desire for an idle conscience. With self disgust shooting up powdered hope with a free base faith. Self charity inebriated in a bottle of accompanied desolation. Hung over on clean ups with a headache from hell, safe speed stimulation maintains a conformed mask. Powdered flakes prescribed with weak pleasure, nasal absorption, another treasure. Positive pill-popping is a timeless upbeat in dizzy delirium. Life is easy with popularity and the uncountable milled pills trance-fixed in altered apparatus. Rising with dismissed amusement, ridiculous recriminations of misuse fool the locum with a masked excuse. Clean happiness, a voluntary conviction, a bloodstream highway with no restrictions. Pull up to the bureau, engage the brain, park the pen and write again.

marat, etc. by Fran Lock

to admire only the razor’s solicitous dexterity, here in the half-light
cast by the loving of you. unswervable blessing, this love, this timid
word i rip along its scalloped edges. i’ll observe a rare and crouching
grace for you. old woman, rendered squat with prayer. and cover all
opinionated instruments, their glow agrees a milky grief that trails
its sleeves through snow. i’ve no use for numbers now. the clock is
diagnosing midnight, loudly in the hall. this clouds the issue so, when
here you come! full of fledgling suddenness. the gulls arrive en masse.
measure of feather against your ghost. pillow, you puzzle sleep. dream,
my utmost undesire. to admire your wrist, wrapped in its own retreat.
your hair, our tamest gold. and how your eye is winkled into radiance,
so wet and black and sly. i have leaned into the loving of you. i learnt
the names, committed your strict meat to memory. luxurious carnivore,
my least pronounceable animal. the grist and shuck and treyf of you.
your red specifics. squeamish, obedient teacup bone. the baffled curl,
the circuit short. i leaned into this learning, and the wrecked blade
ran aground. little ship. storm glut, your ribs are driftwood. first of
all my dead, marred and stretched, and here at your hungering limits,
kissed. morning makes its broken approach, dragging itself by
the fingernails. beatific pesticide, this light, this shrunk and fluttering
holiness. to admire the stricken, the ricochet, the warped hormonal
loom of you, and the mouth downcast, the pen in a lax hand, pretender
to the blank page. where nothing is written. you’ve written nothing.

four poems from Mattered By Tangents by Tim Allen


couldn’t even see white
instantaneous thesaurus of every conversation
couldn’t even see black
without us to watch it the universe would return no favours

grab switches then brag switching dials then
health spa witch trials
up ‘til late waiting for the fire to go out
up ‘til morning for the black market to open

suburban constellation in daylight robbery
screaming landscape clings to its canvas
progressive album cut into obsidian has its issues
Michaux’s cloud flies of algebraic stagecraft



trope protean quagmire spectral fat
curiosities without content come in swarms
engorged captions swim with spermatozoa
enraged innocents shrink from sham enragés

white lace encased in black ice feeds living slippers
nymph too prettily hard tries being a guinea pig
clichéd truths replaces some predictable lies
contradictory advice slicks lemon

informal Doric reforms shadow in earthquake zone
Apollinaire picks up the Virgin for a spin
ticket tout adventurer has the face of a trout
refuelling the bicycle with Lourdes water



rendezvous revenge
smashed gravestone guile derails helix
translator lands for sure on a far shore
organ gulps its cathedral’s forged signature gaffs

blood slaps ruined sunset walls
red rain pisses down from a black sky
creaking swing in rose bower throws in a breeze
so cool having lessons in the warm outdoors

art without a sound smell or image
art contextually fixed like data on picnics
broken record in the throes of a cancelled happy hour
bard stays behind for the lisping workshop



perfect fable fits effigy
reality: a collision of rival dictionaries
fairy pin adapter demands a meeting with its maker
can everybody tell me where anyone is?

hairdryer hands itself in to a particle troll
always very shy when starting a new job
what happened then did something happen?
controlled disinterest tenses up the article factory

literature finds many uses for fool’s gold
turn the heavy metal down to a polite hiss
yes the reserve remote works like a tapeworm
the little corporal hung himself in the watchtower toilet

from new work “exploded / view” by Fran Lock

today / my thoughts are furies / today has moved / in tight circles like a hungering dog / you’ve hovered / a toxic ghost / from the high battlements / of your hairdo / embattled hairdo / keratin crisp / letting down / the rope ladder of your logic / i am afraid but forget / how to speak / you like my smile / you said / my yellow crumbled tooth a crown / and now / and now / let us confront the deforested page / a story is stripped of its princess / and i am / a beautiful despot / a sugar mammy with snakes for hair / six cylinder bitch / you said / how i love nothing now / my thin fingers overthink their critical snap / click! / am i getting through? / d’ yous ken at all? / and i had you / at hello / i believe in nothing / but my own bare feet / stood / in the kitchen / braced for impact / my skin confesses its blemishes / summer’s sweltering depthless real / or rhine wine in a mermaid light / and poems / the bible empties itself of israelites / they schlep / across the page like ants / the red sea parts / the eye decides who will be spared / no one is spared / an eye is an angel of death / dressed / in a waste / of pink silk / wings / from the satiny lap / of clubland / am i getting through? / there were so many versions of me / so many versions of you / you / were making a masque of my inbox / and i should be / flattered / how a sacred hare might / honour a headlight / you frighten me / utmost monarch of radiant terrors / did you stand outside / at the reading? / did you follow me home? / did the torch move over / the darkness / a child’s finger / tracing a name on dirty glass / there’s a holiness that fame confers / you said / a cartoon sanctity / collective grief / these clothes climbed onto my back today / i did not / cannot / dress myself / elect of all expendable things / exceptional things / invisible things / your praise / or your contempt / these are my principal magnets / stars like scattered wits regrouping / heaven remade / in our own / animal / image / oh / to be precious and championed / oh / moth to the smooth hurt of a hot bulb / oh / i see you / stretching your smile / obscene bunting / at a fascist birthday / the world is wearing / obelisks and reliquaries / the world / is wearing thin / we are / peacocking our squalor at passing traffic / poetry / flicking an intimate switch / you said / some pains absolve no one / at the turn / of a stair / in the dark / a soiled glyph / i wrote my name / a girl / you said / sucked you like a snake bite / the pockets of your ugly coat / have bitten your hands / off at the wrist / and this / my most / unprofitable skin / i was charles darwin / dragging a knuckle / i was / carnal and simian / you said /terraformed the surface / of my twin moons / mute and nude / moot and nude / proley girl white / as creamed bleach and canned laugher / wade in a waltz / in sequins and chiffon / pandemic lust / you dynamite me with / again / and again //

#2 father / figure by Fran Lock

safe house / say / fuh / house / an argument climbs / into the plushy cockpit / of my mouth / the received wisdom / of a stiff drink / where the wall is fraught / with slogans / in the out of town / crematoria / an ecstasy of ashes / say / fuh / pair of hands / to tuck you in / to fuck you up / to tighten the bolt / in your neck / little monster / electrically / alive / and we’re falling down / nursing a nursery fate / like london bridge / the way / monotonous bodies in space conform / to the limp math / holding / the universe together / strong force / weak force / the symbols snuggle up / spoon in their shallow / brackets / you are not you / are not / you / drip your canonical honey / i parse my sickle traits / my phobic blood / i love you unto empty / there’s a shame that fits / tight to my body / like the skin / of an apple / you float / in the centre of my headache / in another woman’s belly / a baby / beings / a presumptuous rise / precarious bread / of heaven yet / i discover myself in a doorway / bridges alert with lights / and a light / rain prickles the skin of an apple / the skin of a dark pond / a partial mania / i hold this poem / like a note to the light / watermark / we mark the water / enter here / inter / her //