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WRITING

KEYS TO THE CITY

I: A New Career In A New Town

II: Dream Life

III: Paintings As Prayers

IV: Late Summer Evening

POETRY

Rose Crowned Evenings

Moments Of Pure Ashtray

The Personalised Circus

Berlin Undressing

Blind Children On Western Streets

Lucifer Says He Won't See Me

Say

Absentee Note

Boy

Christmas Curtains

Fountains

July

Swans On The Surface

Girl Smoking On Balcony

Stained Glass Window

Terrible Vision

The Insurance Was WILD

The Sea's Smile

Van Gogh's Lights

The Disappointed Prince

SHORT STORIES

Tectonic Plates

Turkish Pizza

Cuddle Parties

A Night At The Circus

The Catch

Chekhov In Kreuzberg

A Stolen Dress

Two Contract Killers Get Arrested

My Uncle Dick

Death In The Cafe

Performing To The Curtain

Getting Past The Curtain

OTHER

La Traviata

Babylon Berlin

Living With Samuel Beckett:

An Anti Essay

MUSIC

CONTACT

LUCIFER SAYS HE WON'T SEE ME

 

APRIL 2018

 

The agony, Lucifer tonight says he will not know me.

And all around escalate towards noble redemption,

The laughing choirs, laugh as I am set free to be civilised,

Now a zone incapable of being with the pure traffic.

I’m allowed to be walked all over, look:

O the agony,

Lucifer tonight says he will not know me

 

And that drooping mouth of mine,

Well it refutes your consumptive polite desires,

And my own eyes stare duly at my own requesting face,

And they seem to beg for that extreme death: alertness.

 

Pair of golden kisses just for me ma Cherie,

My heart aches for that which it has not yet lost nor never really had

 

See I can taunt too

 

Don’t caress my chin like perfect mothers do to the perfect misbehaving child,

That’s not enough for me, and it doesn’t help my mood either.

 

And what is passing now?

The judge and the juries sit on bus seats, complain that I complain too much,

Considering I didn’t even purchase a ticket. The irony. Mild death, commuting.

They let me wander a loud if my sagging soliloquys once allowed will ever summit to

As low as a conversation, as high as the coldest of silences, see:

O the agony,

Lucifer tonight says he will not know me