“The primary characteristic of machine-readability is extension;
without which the information contained within a file is impenetrable,
or incapable of occupying places extrinsic to the given storage space
at any given time,” pushing a foot through the backdoor.
“That the impenetrability of information is an intrinsic characterisitic
of an extensionless file is clearly implied, although we mustn’t necessarily
assume that the intrinsic characteristic of impenetribility is a primary one.mp3.”
“Yeah. Ok. That’s great mate, but if you’re looking for an audition use the front door.”
“Will do. You got a business card or something I can use? haha!”
“Oh! haha squared. I thought you looked familiar. Come in! Come in!”
“Oh nohs! I just wanted to extend this to you. Don’t let it out of your sight.
It’s due to go live any day now.mp3”
“What should I do with it when it does?”
“Just make sure it segues back out from the last one.”

Skewiffy Saturday

fluffy brown scallops and coffee on rain
scribbles of squiffy and puce
passer-by printed in scent of an oil
coconut blue

preceded by pockets of pacings on carpet
tenderly personal papers undogeared
yellowed manila held etceteras
like so many be-bopped emotions.

A man on a walk by a walksided tree
conqueratised in cement to the breeze
with a generous chuckle
of big hearted leaves

places to do
and things to go
and things to keep
on pinky-purpled-tipsy-toes

Shanghai, 1927


A middle aged man
feathers his leather jacket

Schooner of Becks and a bowl
of hot chips, please.

Turning the tap, she spies:
airmail paper, tobacco pouch, lighter.

So you’ll be sitting
outside then?


I am familiar with little – William
Blake included.

Did not have the ‘lay of the
shoreline’ before I took flight.

Wandered around in my own
skin for too long

I suppose, and measured up
with a little ruler.

Accurate results. I can see
repeating themes from up here now

when I imagine my feet
on the ground.

Reference cited:

Squires, Paul. Seeking Solace in the Unknown: The Puzzle Box. www, 2008?

The Ballade of Franz Lizst (by Ana)

You, long fingers’ miracle:

the countess must have smiled

peering from atop her secretaire.

Masterly chiseled carpals, meta-

carpals perfectly bound a

harmony of long phalanges

translated by the keys, the piano

you play at her side, by the source.

The princess also knew.

when caught by the spell

the love dream, that

the reward is you,

long fingers’ miracle,

and she traded her wishes

-the balls, the palaces-

for a melody.

I hide in my corner and

wonder about many others

that dreamt the swan dream

of arched violin necks

under the touch of

your long fingers’ miracle.

Have they found consolation

in your absence?

Prisoner of harmony, spellbound

by you, long fingers’ miracle

I leave from my corner sometimes :

back to Budapest Tom and Jerry.

(By Ana, the elegant lady sipping champagne)

mamu.sic with double bass (funky blues ballad)

never met nobody like you, Mamu
always got one brown eye on the door
your silence
stronger than liquor
your heart
full, your skin thicker 

and the tumblenotes fall
and the teeny birds call
and we drink still to hope,

Twirl me Mamu

later, when its gloaming~light and dimpsy
whispers and echoes fill empty glasses
and you walk home with the tipsy~girl
and lucky, so lucky are you, Mamu,
and the tumblenotes fall
and the teeny birds call

and i hang your hat on the hat hook until you come home.

(Take it away Jack, I need a drink)

The Amy Winehouse Riff

She pinches the hem,
crushed satin tacked
secured with a single
Gordian knot,
a safeguard that fumbled
stitches won’t unravel
and reveal
that black line drawn
with kohl;
some vain attempt
to sexualise this naïve form,
this pretence that reluctantly
demands attention.
She pulls it, pinches,
drags it up revealing
porcelain skin and
catholic guilts
as the drummer
teases and rolls
her slight dip,
head bowed with her
curtsey in servitude.

Uncertain Time.

Some fluid jazz drifts out to the balcony
where he puts his arm around me
these is uncertain times, boy,
so we’ll revert to fundamental principles
and trust our instincts and he squeezes me
and breathes
you just sit there and play
as though in some performance of art
tatum if you can haha
I’ll go find a drummer she laughs
F., leave the pianoplayer alone
there are some gentlemen to see you,