Sideways Geoffrey, Sideways

[vern.silver]

every month i buy
a book of poetry
if i can find
a new collection
by someone
i do not know

sometimes they are good
sometimes not
in the limited version
of my opinion

balanced against the taste
sensibility politics
choices dreams
actions
the life i've lived

so far

which is my own
and not yours
and not hers
and not theirs

but mine

as opinion or taste
or life is

so i don't wait
for the smell of you
coming down the hall

the sound of you
coming down the street

the clip clop clip clop
of nothing much better to do
than the clip clop clip clop
of noise
that poses as a journey
to somewhere

that seems important
enough for you to share it
with others

thinking the
clip clop clip clop
is somehow worth hearing

it is

but only if i choose to listen

[Sideways]

did someone tell
you it is
poetry
to write
prose but chop
it into random
lines like a
hooker on cocaine?

chip, chop, chip, chop

if they did
they lied to
you, Vern
and the next time
you see them
you should
beat
them
without mercy
like John
did to Peter.

Sue

[John K.]

There he goes again. Is it impersonation or collusion?

[Sideways]

John K
if u do dis again
I will report
u
2
da
admin
I
strator
ok John?
que?

John K

[John K.]

John K
if u do dis again
I will report
u
2
da
admin
I
strator
ok John?
que?

John K

[vern.silver]

Ah Sideways, show me your credentials.

I am now able
to sleep twenty hours a day
The remaining four
are spent
telephoning a list
of important people
in order
to say goodnight ...

[tinderella]

I am no poet
and I know it
oh, to have a brain
that can compose a refrain
but here I am on the red wine again
cos i do not have to get up for work
but at the end of the day
its all about feeling good
and sideways and geoffrey
make me smile.
( I prefer the way Jeff Bridges spells it
and I like it sideways sometimes.)
I need to go to bed

[vern.silver]

I did not properly credit a portion of a poem I quoted earlier so I will repost and cite it here:

I Am Now Able

I am now able
to sleep twenty hours a day
The remaining four
are spent
telephoning a list
of important people
in order
to say goodnight

Jikan
who was born
to make men laugh
bows his head

Leonard Cohen
Book of Longing

and while I am at it:

if the

green
opens
a little a
little
was
much and much
is

too if

the green robe
o
p
e
n
s
and two are
wildstrawberries

By whom?

or:

When Even The
Your breasts are like.
Your thighs and your carriage.
I never thought.
Somewhere there must be.
It's possible.
Summer has nothing.
Your feet are so.
My defence is.
Summer certainly doesn't.
Your.
And your.
If only.
Somewhere there must

(etc and by whom?)

or:

a grin without a
face(a look
without an i)
be care

ful(touch noth
ing)or
it'll disapp
ear bangl

essly(into sweet
the earth)&
nobody
(including our

selves)
will reme
mber
(for 1 frac

tion of
a mo
ment)where
what how

when
who why
which
(or anything)

(?????)