Spices fill your turn-style racks
Utensils tall, tall as the eyes can see
are stacked upon granite, ice skate counters.
Grinders and graters can be found up, up high
into your Himalayan cupboards
Ah, SugaMama, let us make some cakes.
We will mingle with the eggs,
galvanize the oils – essential –
butter and splash us the white stuff.
Add in a few spoons full of sugar
and pinch that salt.
Hold me as I mould the goo batter
into sculptures of tropical birds
and galaxy stars.
Ah, SugaMama lets make gummy cakes,
flaky biscuits and sticky-finger tarts.
Lets gather our mouth-watering treasures
and travel to the park.
We can sprawl, yeah spread it –
sit under mighty trees and listen to the chorus
of crows cawing and plotting their murder
while we swipe away dribbled frosting
from on our sweet-smelling innocent fingers.
SugaMama shall we fluff up our blue blanket
and hit it? Head for the sky? Pretend
that we’re sitting on our own slice of cloud –
smiling and laughing –
point at the doe with her young babe springin’
watch them as they explore the buttercups.
SugaMama, o’ SugaMama gazing eyes
of hypnotic swirl, melting my chocolate,
strawberry and butter-cream.
The swirls Mama, those magical whipped whirls.
Lets catch a ride and travel to the stars.
To the scrumptious cosmic pixies waitin’ for us –
I just know it.
Bug celestial eyes and fiery, gaseous curls.
SugaMama can’t you see them?
Can we dance with them, SugaMama?
Bat your eyelids at their shimmering nova dress.
Twinkling pearls, are those ash-trailing asteroids
around their slender necks?
SugaMama, o’ sweet-smiling SugaMama,
lets tap naked with our naked feet,
snap happy fingers and watch the showering stars
come crashing when we crash –
it’s the sugar, Mama.


Falling down man
into the hole –
the void –
while the Greek man
smiles at me –
his Mediterranean
nicotine fingers
like long lashes – strike out
feathering my nose,
his cool waters stroke my toes
sending me –
bursting bubbles into my soul
taking me to the outer planes.
Glide with me Mama
as we sing your song
soaring with the reborn phoenix
bask in the ashes –
of the roach.
We will shed our old skins
against our christening fumes;
twist, turn, do a loop-to-loop
against the grey matter
we will laugh up at the red-orange
honey-brown golden flames
as they twist around our curls
let’s pop shrooms, gulp down
the cleansing grey goose
while shimmin’ with the electrified banshees.
Dip me Mama
hit me Mama.
tickle my dark side
Sing Mama, let’s scream,
swirl the streams –
why cry
drown in this cruel,
dragging world?
Let’s sway as cobras,
wiggle like worms.
Hit me mellow Mama
and let’s sing to the wind.

Buzz Kill

Pig, Fuzz, that’s me strolling the streets
Boots shining, helmet gleaming
Nightstick twirling between the beats

“Wha..? Who is this before me?”

Platform boots, planted
Navy polyester swaying
Afro glimmering in the heat
Lips glossed, glistening

“Mmm, Mmm.”

Hey there groovy mama
Let’s return to my pad and catch a buzz.
Smirks, an angel’s laughter
Share a bong?
Chase the dragon?
Flat foot you crazy.

Lava lamps glowing,
Love beads entwining between our fingers,
Peace signs blanketing the walls.
Flat foot you barmy.

You wear a badge,
Following the law.
I play the skins,

Screaming “Free love.”

Free love, Free love,
I can dig it.
My handcuffs on your wrists,
Melting wax sliding down your thigh.

Copper, stop!

You bum me out.
You flirt,
You tease,

“Dude you are the Establishment.
I’m a flower child.
We will never hang out.”