HOW TO LOOK AFTER THE BUGS IN YOUR BED

Bug Gains Wisdom  

We allow 
        Ourselves 
   A break from
             Softness 
Or that’s what they’ll tell you
              On the back road 
Motorway intersection ads always
         Turn right look
Up from this downward spiral
    Pass out cotton wool kisses 
            Like currency 
                          Goodnight!
We slept on a dirt road
          Heard the news there will be
                  No more news only
                       The lightness of being
       Will assuage this divorced orphan place
               Hands in sweet dough roll
                       In sticky mud
                             Stuck
                                In hopeful 
                                  Tranquil  
                                    Incident 

 

Bug in a Car 

    There 
            Are
               Places 
                     You  
                        Don’t 
                         Remember 
                Driving  
          Fast 
              The wrong
                      Way up the
                          Main road
          I wouldn’t 
          Have cared really 
                  The sum of what 
                            We offer to the
                                Bombs often amounts 
              To nothing if you don’t 
       Believe in living off magic dust
What do you eat? 
            You can’t conjure
                 Sustenance 
                      From wasteland
                               But you can try to
                                    Love people 
                                         Who don’t want
                                             To be loved
                                                Solely 
                                                    In magnetic 
                                                       Experience  

 

Bug Skips School in The SummerTime  

  Remember skipping school 
  to steal a faulty copy of Clockwork Orange 
  The DVD shop man laughed
War is never fair 
And this is a love poem 
You looked so pretty then 
with your too long hair
in eyes, in mouth, on couch 
The space between
is every version
of closed lips
 Since you 
 the land is grey
every Cause since you;
     The colour of the sky
   Never watched that film 
the sound of the planes crashing 
It was war it’s never fair 
Men fight amongst each other
While the house burns down
Your parents’ woodburner 
the cause;
 The cause is boxing day 
  The colour is your mothers’ cooking
   Distant hope now, stocks in hope
         are down and the fish she made
          is something we’d never afford 
              Now
                 This is a love poem or
                      War is never love.  

  

Bug on the floor  

Every part of this room has touched you
Or you touched it 
The way we experience experience is individual
Not for me though
Not under the floorboards
Not crawling around your bed sheets 
In the foetal position;
Can bugs even be in the foetal position?
Or does that have its own bug name?
Bug bug bite
More like bug bug bug you
You stupid mother bugger
Do all bugs have anxious attachment? 
You’re bugging me out big time
I used to be so much bugging fun 
But bug bye bug eyes and your bug
Lies, the end of this soft life
We shared your skin together we
Killed off herbal remedies together 
Bug bye,
Together
With my big
Bug eyes 
Burning big time 
Itch 
Itch
Itch 
Me 
Till I disappear in you. 

 

Bug in a Big Hat   

Ahhhh where to start?
With a bug in a big hat?
With an opal infliction
With the colour purple 
Translucent money
Eating at our bed crumbs
We call this sleepytime tea
As we share one bag 
To save on time
Together again. 

  

Bug in the Club  

Ooooweeee I’m the coolest mother bugger alive
I’m a lady’s bug 
A real smooth scrub itch mite
Cocooned in your arms
You can’t get me out so
The world moves on
Across the page 
I centipede across the stage
Spent five summers metamorphosing for you
Only to finally
Stop crying on club dance floors
But the move is an itch
And this itch itches on  

  

Bug Tries Anarchy  

Goodnight!  

          Anar                      

                     kiss   

Fucked 
                   On broken  

Window bits  

Tesco bag  

     Sexy wag  

Talented   

First bus   

Prime 
              Admin
                           istered 

Tree  

 

Bug Like an Angel  

All this flat tummied waltzing
We all knew 
What it meant 
Sat on your roof garage shouting 
Sincere stuff at the sky 
We are the merry men!
We know something that you don’t know
We opened the aeroplane door
And let our guts fall out 
Our hair grow long 
Our words grow longer 
Like little bug angels 
We change the station and end up 
Stuck to the ceiling 
Dust angels
Looking down
Feeling sorry for you
But we hit hard and higher
And we mean it
Bug time.