I know every bench in Uckfield
& its rigid offerings [too honest
in framing my sittings] but I’m
a blank study to sell as they put
latest prices on my head [Hey!
Have you heard? & other bets –

He is colour-by-numbers – He is
dot-to-dot – He is easily tricked
& Sudoku-fooled]/ Cruel prices
re-layer – homemade-caked – a
thick piling-up [of sharp psycho
stuff] – brown sugar [sweet-ish]

Do not pay for any hand-made
bakes – unwrapped & delicate –
until tasted – in each bite took –
wait – wait – for poison’s hooks
[I’m on every bench in Uckfield
& await one cook’s cut by knife]

Chefs in white smocks gather to
carry off starters/ Chef – yes – &
Yes Chef – too many – they spoil
stuff/ Three is a crowd – soured/
Throw brown sugar to quell – to
sweeten & stiffen resting places

where varnish is treacled across
giving timbers – my bench – here
I’ll sit – on sugar-wood [screwed
& washered to aid my recovery]
They rape ancient woodlands – a
seat is axed & my ill-rest is stolen

Where my stick is angled to prop
[& not fall] – for studies I have sat
to watch birds walk [a bare cook
at work – that rook with her gloss
of feathers] – our greedy gatherer
of sugared ingredients at my feet

& still we cannot speak of truths –
as if my self-portrait is too untrue
between my charcoal sweeps – in
each digging-at I spoke of snaps –
break of burnt stuff [of cooked art
& too much time given to studies]

All this is mine [my view – my type
of words – my phrase-pots]/ Don’t
[do not] try to know my hauls/ You
thick-set fools who’ll look too hard
for gold in barren seams/ Sit back
& wait – wait for fuller explanation

of meaning [of verse]/ Word-soup
is one view/ I will watch cars piss
up Brown’s Lane – speeding – fast
to homes – quick to conflict/ Here
remembrance for long-gone-dead
& others rested on empty benches