my memories are slippery and sharp
and coloured by the heat of her
adventurous and sweet

she caught my english words

her throne and duty may have been this city in the dust
but she’d never left her isis home
a council youth, a river bank

she heard my english words

and spoke, exuberant
compleat of drink and desert glow
she spread her history

she kept my english words

and dreamt her night in oxfordshire
as snow touched down on foreign lands
where she will ride forever

Dylan Harris

isbn 978-1-907812-22-4

£6.00    22 pages ,with 7 colour plates and 1 B/W plate

read my lips

i’m such a fan of madame tussauds 

that i have a favourite wax-sculptor

and could recognize his work in a 

tv-style police lineup. i think i might

anyway. his name’s paul bainbridge

and he did ringo and george but not

paul or john. the way mrs t works, it’s

a team-project, but paul’s input is 

distinctive. if the person is shifty, he 

sure as anything makes them look 

shifty. you should see his al gore. 

his princess juliana of the netherlands 

is excellent too but his masterwork is 

george bush sr and i would rate it

as one of the finest works of political

art, the way the lip slides up at the right

as if he’s saying, like you just did:

my throat’s now closing up, fantastic.  

ISBN 978-1-907812-36-1

£2.00   16 pages

numbers 71-75

e u l o g y

real time flask scarred debt belated

egret’s agony notturno scatter front

ispiece follow ourselfs fleck saffron

& vomiting enclosure down sale. √. s

o it was tribute plashed into immens

e tubes vegetative stuff, ,,,,,,,,,,

,, pod strrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

extra-repro-seizure buttoned contra

e l e g y

dictions witness primal gloves & thig

h garnish floatable boulevard;; so p

o r a t e

retty n.o flicker in archway ransack

contextual faraway zrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

mmmmmmm gobbets paracletic wanderer

& trashes novelty universal lyric..s

top breathing / start levitation

placebo drone ……………~~~~~~~~~~anonyma

nonymanonymanonymanonym construe dev

icers / baroque ululationist no cont

act days & restitutions. to dooms is

curse them river glide drowthy litho

graph. xarp. pepper, spray,.mirrored

freshets. body hangs inductility \ b

lown asunder appears so young now wa

s a ghosts’. arche | trace. empire v

eiled vampire leopards. a book of ma

idmerms. contact no..ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ soothe

hostage÷≥≥≥≥œœœœœ≥≥≥≥ kaolin. öî;” ug

ly. made one last attempt to comfort

the drowning peroration. this attemp

t failing took refuge in utopian com

bats & devours the survivors. estbl.

biohomiletic basis for marketªªªªªªª

ISBN: 978-0-9565418-7-1

£5.00    43 pages

13. 

she fell down right smack on her poodle  

back at the bed & breakfast  

our waiter would not stop quoting Marx  

a kid of 6 got lost in the attic  

someone called for Rita Lin  

& a schwa management manual  

that wheelbarrow is missing a wheel  

formerly the clipboard  

belonged to me but ever since  

isbn 978-1-907812-12-5

£4.00    17 pages

By Joy as Tiresome Vandalism

isbn 978-1-907812-09-1

£5.00    32 pages

make my eye move

steer circles

but miss the meeting

of where lines

shy by side

suspicions side lined

because we used our ands

wisely and we

paused

backed off

and blanked it through

another her has

just enough

difference to

be swallowed

isbn 978-1-907812-03-3

£5.00    24 pages

Quotidian Cancel

Again rain.  My final visit to this exhibit.  It is day sad-saturant.  A displacement.  A disqualification of the quotidian.  Budge refusal.  Herbivorous dirge.   Lamentation.  I dial-in on “View of Cagnes,” the attraction (attachment?) is sub-logical, pre-Saharan, it stings like a rum ocean, like a bay on fire, it is time to give back, we are not alone, ... while facing “View of Cagnes” I take a deep breath than exhale my first line,

“hurl cyclonic pigment dressage drugged passeriform multi-dimensional splendiferous            fest ...”

the population recedes, encouraged by our solitude, I deliver the second line more robustly,

“impastoed lachrymal boulder-blush boucle-heaves bully the decimal ...”

hallowed sunrises warp in a sully of fruit trees, impoverishment slouches to a surly dawn,  Soutine’s visage issues from the bowels of Cagnes, the grave creases in his face ease into a sturdy smile, my lines stir him, he connects, he is grateful I have come, he thanks me for the letter, we talk, two guys who didn’t hitch to any spectacle but that of their own devisement, we are comfortably complicit, hammocking in soul-drench, we chat of small matters, of shoes & weather & edibles, the large matters mushroom unannounced from our persons, from our dedications, with no need for fanfare, -- vibrating revolutionary tusks – he advises me not to fret the maggot-fests before he departs ....

(This is a short extract from a long poem)

isbn 978-1-907812-14-9

£5.00    20 pages

isbn 978-1-907812-19-4

£5.00    20 pages