there

 

 

 

my                                              
corner                                              
in the dining                                              
room behind the                                              
armchair by the                                              

shelf with my own                                              
collection of books                                              
and comics by the                                              
drawing of the three                                              
stages of the Saturn                                              

V rocket on pink wall over                                              
black boards by the border                                              
on the carpet edge there where                                              
I had caught my first sight of a                                              
monster’s face voluptuous on a                                              
trading card the place to                                              
find               significance                                              

 

 

 

a room in the House on Eglinton Hill
pink wormhole: only

 

phantom / stranger

 

 

 

                                   phantom
                                   stranger

                      it is uncanny how alone I am
                                   wandering the stairwell
                                   lost in comic-world by bare window
                      it is weird how naturally I am not noticed
                                   slight look off before they resume
                                   what they were saying anyway
                      results in me pausing before my rejoinder
                                   questioning the back foot
                                   what if…ing too deeply before my
                                   response with no echo
                      I communicate doubt
                                   and no one wants to listen to doubt

                      let me resign
                                   to the mystery
                      I wouldn’t want the suspense
                                   of having to stay anyway
                                                   !

                      a-ha   ha   HA   HAha!!

 

 

 

holiday

 

 

 

                                    holiday

                  on the coach down to
                  Folkeston the pages of
                  Batman DC-14 100 Page
                  SUPER SPECTACULAR
                  pages from a time and world
                  before my day whole
                  streets and people lived
                  in shadow and yellow light
                  in recede and smirk
                  in caption and still
                  in numbers and dates –

                  later we walked down
                  into town from the campsite
                  and through the streets we
                  stepped into the general store
                  the smell of tins and
                  packed food rose from the
                  faded lino with lime highlights
                  the comic rack revolving
                  seceding titles successing
                  numbers companies of
                  generation branches discovered
                  a distant family
                  a close ancestry

                  now traceable

 

 

 

walking wormhole: 20000 / steps
lime wormhole: the figure “46″ / in frosted glass

 

Dr Strange #6 (Feb 1975)

Dr Strange #6 (Feb 1975); Marvel; writer: Steve Englehart; artist: Gene Colan; inker: Klaus Janson

 

 

 

                     the always aslant encounter
                                of human street and park
                                making their lives
                                          in the grounds they see
                     in the grounds provided to them
                                                   constant encounter
                                as variable as the daily

                                                   for those who see
                     elliptical to the happenstance
                                          the skyline to the treeline
                                                   the glide to the cobbles
                                the palm to the point
                                          the bothstep to the same side
                     to avoid their paths
                                          and collide
                                          Hopper saw it
          and Colan saw it and Strange had already
                                          stepped into it
                                                   stepped out it

                                moment

                                                   but now
                     his pupils were that much more round
                                the trashcan tilted
                                          the better to see now
                                                   the street
                                                   the face in the orb implied
                     that everything had changed and
                                          things
          would never be the same
                                          again

                                          continued …

 

 

 

Dr Strange wormhole: biography

 

Batman: Year One (1987)

comics: Batman: Year One (1987); writer: Frank Miller; artist: David Mazzucchelli

 

 

 

                           city as infrastructure
            inky-clear sky beautiful through the network of gantry and elevated train track
                                   rooftops as interstructure
Gordon: ‘How did I let this happen …
          bring an innocent child to life … in a city without hope’, then …
                      Batman as innerstructure
       ’I may have to die tonight … How, father? How do I do it?’ … then
                                   of groundfloor human nature:
                                                     Loeb’s grandfatherly bankruptcy ‘yes it is’
                chewing mints mass-culture collect cute vile power as right
                                 Flass’ bullplay get things done with self-satisfied smile
            doing it the right way only way power as use
                                   Gordon principled
                     but weak with Barbara weak with Sarah
            the only occupant in an artery of cars off the bridge onto the mainland raining
                                     thinking clinking cups in Hopper’s
        Wayne still no personality except the vindication of his anxiety
                                    strong but stupid stupid

                                                   Batman is not a character but a shift of emotion
                   the sky whispers to him through antennae and water-tower
       Gordon only happy when outflanking Flass
                                    when anticipating the Joker
                      Batman alights out of a beam of light
                                                                        smelling Gordon’s coffee

 

 

 

Bonus Books

 

 

 

                                Bonus Books

                     at the end of the walk downhill
                     past walls and roofs and cooking smells
                     and waste land smells and spring day smells
                     and stacks of mags
                     and books and comics smell with
                     quietly deepening dates and numbers
                     and green sky covers with
                     costumed moral question stances

                     all to take back uphill
                     to the tree which reaches to the river
                     to survey the life of the whole city
                     under the future of the moon

 

 

 

a street corner of … Woolwich
Plumstead wormhole: coldstreet
Thames wormhole: crows on the / chimneys / of 40/38

 

coffee shop / inculcation

 

 

 

                                                      coffee shop
                                                      inculcation

                                I have been looking for my life
                                in comic shops and bookshops
                                for all my life

                                I have found skylines and streets
                                peoples’ lives and landscapes …

                                          look to stop lifing
                                          and start timing

                                not to go out-hunting
                                and search-gathering
                                for the angle that is different for
                                the-bits-that-others-have-missed
                                believing in the relief of find
                                and relaxing with the heroes
                                assembled on the bookshelf but rather

                                          to just
                                          include
                                          them all
                                          everything

                                these people all around
                                to smell their view
                                to see their journey
                                to hear their haves
                                to pulse their step
                                to catch an eye
                                to embrace wider
                                and wider to sit
                                even with the boredom
                                especially with the boredom
                                the pointlessness
                                the disappointment
                                the betrayal and then

                                there is no time to hunt
                                and no need to gather

 

 

 

… part of: coffee shop poems
Eastbourne wormhole: in the gem shop / on the pier
reading wormhole: oh, this is how I am / at the moment

 

quoshed

 

 

 

                meet Mark Redford:

                from the time it looked like
                he was clever he
                gulped down books and comics
                but only occasionally
                felt quoshed

                if you see him chugging still
                tell him to put down his cup
                and see how exactly he is thirsty

 

 

 

reading wormhole: ‘finished reading …’

 

‘through …’

 

 

 

                                                      through

                                                      the bright
                                                      yellow world

                                                      ran Batman
                                                      rising out of

                                                      BATMAN his head
                                                      locked in the great

                                                      cape held out
                                                      behind him

 

 

 

part of >>> Batman

… Saturday arrived

 

 

 

                                … Saturday arrived

                                descend the hill
                      past the bay window façades
                      behind trees and lamp posts
                      rooms fitted jenga-like inside
                      shapes in and out of a block

                                depth
                                grey
                                misty
                                still

                      cold kept off
                                enough
                      by jumper scarf and sun

                      the tall wall of Woolwich Arsenal
                      the bookshop Penguins
                      the luck of market stalls
                      the single heartbeat of Bonus Books
                      past the girlie books to the comics

                stacked               chequered              dated
                bottle                  skies                      brick-logo
                headline              questions               erotic
                figures                 in passion             stances
                cowl-logo            billboard               letters

                      finding yet-earlier numbers
                                like a tertön

 

 

 

a street corner of … Woolwich
mist wormhole: one day / in 1956