The Heebie Beegees

Assorted Poems, Selected poems

He danced
like a man possessed
one fevered Saturday night.

He gave me
the heebie beegees
and I left the floor in fright.

Some blamed it
on the Boogieman
but it was a John Travoltageist.

Lift Music

Assorted Poems, Selected poems

If I were called in
to construct
a soundtrack for my life,
I should make use
of muzak.

Each song indistinct,
immemorable,
and entirely
without consequence,

as it fills out the silence

between floors

until
the door
opens
for me.

Hear, They’re and Everywear

Assorted Poems, Selected poems

I here that their everywear,
those people who don’t know
there their from they’re.

It where’s me down,
they’re choice of word;
there grammar should not be scene
but herd.

For we shall stare at mobile phones

Assorted Poems, Selected poems

Streets shrug as we roam back to our homes,
obstacle courses of lampposts and cones.
For we shall stare at mobile phones.

Landmarks languish and attractions close;
statues, cathedrals, Byzantine domes.
For we shall stare at mobile phones.

Reading gets shelved, poetry and prose,
with the dusty rebuke of neglected tomes.
For we shall stare at mobile phones.

Conversation falters, dries up, unflows,
feelings once said, lie buried, unknown.
For we shall stare at mobile phones.

Yes, we shall stare at mobile phones,
when we’re together and when we’re alone.
For we shall stare at mobile phones.

And when we die, let’s hope they’re thrown
into the pit with our crumbling bones.
So that we might stare at mobile phones.

Orpheus and the Umbroworld

Assorted Poems, Selected poems

Orpheus descends
into the umbroworld

of trackie bottoms
and replica tops,

ragged running shoes
and knee-length socks,

skeleton racks
of shell-suited overstocks,

and sidesteps
the slow shuffle of dead souls

with their tatty dreams
of sunday morning goals,

deadly crossfield passes
and hacky sack skills.

He slays three-headed
Cerberus behind the tills,

who blows bubble gum balloons
from three sullen mouths,

and finds sweet Eurydice
wrapped up in sports towels.

Unlooking, he unravels,
unfetters, unfurls,

ushers her back through
the aisles of Sportsworld,

past gumshields and goggles
and tennis ball canisters,

under the Gods’ watchful eye,
Nike and Adidas.

But, in the security screen
on the threshold,

the face of Eurydice,
he accidentally beholds

and she is suddenly gone
from him forever,

lost in the folds
of a thousand

golf umbrellas.