Doug Jones
9/5/18
“Harsh blue light of a Birds beak, in Caistor, an empty
ward. Was a sunny day before Christ. Middle-age
woman, her terracotta back – walking down the road.
Patterned skirt caught in the sun, wind. Had anticipated
this, of course, + that I wouldn’t be able to see her face –
for she was lost in her day. Indefinite gesture carved on
an animal historic, or to come, impressed. A holiness
asleep on that bed”
23/5/18
“Long song, deep lease of the soul under earth, sick of
self-love + dept – delights, now. core into barren MODE
glass. There, the connect between the show of yr many
thoughts + the series of the world comes on. Saw Olivia
in her medically induced room. Marvelled that there
were other versions of this scene, out there, to increase
the memory of dear real Olivia, photograph her change,
+ form”
30/5/18
“Introduce paper to the west, puritan, the faith that in
arab feed, back, often gave you pause, the text –
handmade, back arched, body of a vice, estate, the
tattoos of children’s names on a neck. All contemplated
cross a vast agricultural zone. How you communicate
thus? Dumb in the work up of industrial, runiform cast
info – an ongoing kind. Tip, tip of reinterpretation,
conversion – factory floor”
6/6/18
“What’s yr suit, human? Isolated, but with those
wonderful legs. Think of the walks you could do for
leisure, with the legs you got free. + then bed – briefly
accomplished, into innate rights, communal need – a
personal, segmented lysis. Skeleton + bone.
Recomposition. In gaits round town which were
pathways once, you can now go to meet people. In a
courtesy – complement, some time in hand”
20/6/18
“Child among the weeds – liberty of a nature, human
believer that has many parts to, a town that converges
with its trash + is to a bead of God as you emerge for
you, clandestine on an overweening sense, a sea
through a dictated mean – to be at the start of the water
port of life – in town – litters for your charge + the love of
gull – you saw her, + found this grass rich – extraordinary
in its harmonies”
27/6/18
“You absorb mass, protein + grow don’t you, papa Snow
White + break down the trash, + denature yr clothes, lie
covered in soil in some library. Must eat by yr skin, out a
violent, questionable flats + later on pills. Don’t think I
ever seen you take nutrition by mouth – for apples, in the
past, never meant much.. They would be toxins – lip
around the cell, in glass coffin food agent – bulks on yr
forms”
“Harsh blue light of a Birds beak, in Caistor, an empty
ward. Was a sunny day before Christ. Middle-age
woman, her terracotta back – walking down the road.
Patterned skirt caught in the sun, wind. Had anticipated
this, of course, + that I wouldn’t be able to see her face –
for she was lost in her day. Indefinite gesture carved on
an animal historic, or to come, impressed. A holiness
asleep on that bed”
23/5/18
“Long song, deep lease of the soul under earth, sick of
self-love + dept – delights, now. core into barren MODE
glass. There, the connect between the show of yr many
thoughts + the series of the world comes on. Saw Olivia
in her medically induced room. Marvelled that there
were other versions of this scene, out there, to increase
the memory of dear real Olivia, photograph her change,
+ form”
30/5/18
“Introduce paper to the west, puritan, the faith that in
arab feed, back, often gave you pause, the text –
handmade, back arched, body of a vice, estate, the
tattoos of children’s names on a neck. All contemplated
cross a vast agricultural zone. How you communicate
thus? Dumb in the work up of industrial, runiform cast
info – an ongoing kind. Tip, tip of reinterpretation,
conversion – factory floor”
6/6/18
“What’s yr suit, human? Isolated, but with those
wonderful legs. Think of the walks you could do for
leisure, with the legs you got free. + then bed – briefly
accomplished, into innate rights, communal need – a
personal, segmented lysis. Skeleton + bone.
Recomposition. In gaits round town which were
pathways once, you can now go to meet people. In a
courtesy – complement, some time in hand”
20/6/18
“Child among the weeds – liberty of a nature, human
believer that has many parts to, a town that converges
with its trash + is to a bead of God as you emerge for
you, clandestine on an overweening sense, a sea
through a dictated mean – to be at the start of the water
port of life – in town – litters for your charge + the love of
gull – you saw her, + found this grass rich – extraordinary
in its harmonies”
27/6/18
“You absorb mass, protein + grow don’t you, papa Snow
White + break down the trash, + denature yr clothes, lie
covered in soil in some library. Must eat by yr skin, out a
violent, questionable flats + later on pills. Don’t think I
ever seen you take nutrition by mouth – for apples, in the
past, never meant much.. They would be toxins – lip
around the cell, in glass coffin food agent – bulks on yr
forms”
© Copyright Doug Jones 2019
Doug Jones works full-time as a GP in Yarmouth, in an extremely deprived community - his poems, he says, are about that really.