Harlequin

The harlequin of New Cross comes
singing reggae walking past kebab shops
with a tyre around his waist
with a traffic cone his crown
falling into every pothole on fire
doused in hotsauce and ginger.
The ladies beam and pelt him with gold
from their wrists, scrabble at his thighs
tear off their burkhas and hijabs
and run home to bathe in beer.
He's drinking malt with the Ghanaians
covered in mayonnaise and flour.
They clap his shoulders, offer fishes,
bake his eyes red and roll him
battered out into the street
where he feasts on beef brisket and shrimp.

Children dance all around him,
swing from his red and green tailcoat,
prank on his chicken ribs, his bells.
He grins like a piano, plucks goats' eyes
from behind their ears. When their mothers
come wagging tongues like steaks in scolding
he waltzes them across the drains
crooning to them like the Caribbean sea,
leaves them breathless, bosoms bowling,
holding baskets of mangoes and figs.
Twilight, he quits the drunken town.
Cartwheeling, throwing off his clothes,
his crown, he gives a glorious cockadoodledoo
and leaps like a lion into the sky.

In the garden

In the garden
poplars crack and leaf
a fox eats daffodils
sparrows begin to bloom
gurgling in the trees
ivy drops like smoke
branches lose their rags
a squirrel chews its foot
falling from the fence
pidgeons crash unconscious
into the bramble bushes
the roses come humble
with twenty kisses
the crow is stalking
from behind the tulips
the ground is broke
the soil is soaked
the rotten stump falls
in love with woodlice

At night the rain
will wash the reeds
drink the ants
coronate the bees
now the starlings crackle
around the king
the badger wakes
and eats its young
owls shed their wings
deer are mating
in the sun
while in a ditch
frog lies bleeding

Host

The pontiff has a whale eye
turning like a planet in his head.
His bone groans from the weight,
the other eye is cowed and red,
squashed bloodshot in a corner
with his nose, his lips.
His skull is like a shell
exploded, the rest lopsided, bent
to fit this ball of blackness in.
Tears of oil fall when it
turns to heaven, when it blinks.
At night his body is shaken
as it rolls back over hours
finally baring ropes of nerves
encrusted with salt.
These seem to grow each night,
boring into the socket
until the old man gasps
and the parasite sings darkly
out of his closing throat.
The priests whisper together
the eye has found its throne.
They go to him, and see
the other eye has fallen out,
the human mouth is gone.
The pontiff's body rises,
robed in blubber, ghost of bone.
The eye sings out
as it drinks them in.

Pop Idol

O Coca-Cola
let us kiss your horny feet
look on us weeping ink
you chink of belly light
you sickly constellation
you sudden racing heart
you dizzy god of us
with a gazillion microbes
rinsing in your caramel
let us lie in your wake
bearded with creamy froth
dreaming of black diamonds
dreaming of nougat
dreaming of the dog
that barks you slickly
in the faces of the stars
dreaming maybe of death
the brown hair of children
ploughing up a thirsty earth
the gaping gulch.

O Coca-Cola
O let the levee break
crows are exploding
crops are burning
the planets are moving
the storm is coming
the children are dying
the king is going blind
the veil has dropped
there is such drought
O pope us with black love
blind us with black light
cake us in your grace
stomach our salvation
we are but purée before you.

Beer Bear

I was walking past an alley
when the beer bear leaned out,
grabbing me and pulling me in.
It burped in my face, took
a couple of healthy swigs
and fell backwards into a bin.
It crawled out, covered in slop,
eggshell, bits of fat and fruit,
shaking, starting to moan.
"You're a disgrace," I said, "look
at all this shit all over you."
It threw up everywhere, hunched
against the wall, then turned to me,
face dripping snot and spit
and growled "This is nothing new."

I remember it was so handsome,
toothy grin and pristine fur,
on the label of every brew.
It talked to me for hours,
about the baiting, the back door,
the way they screw you
out of every cent, pay in perks,
dope you up, finally kick you out
or just dump you at the zoo.
They way they bring you down.
It crushed the bottle in its paw
and tried its best to stand.
"Fuck the world," it said,
"I'm going to get out of this town,
walk until I'm in the forest."
When I left the alleyway,
it was face down, starting to snore.