Alexander Hawkins

Alexander Hawkins Poems

Look into the largest largeness
beyond the brutalist choir

booming out stark music,
...

Morning demands different rules.

Life is a mess hidden by the patterns of public transport furnishings,
like confetti vomit or nauseating square spirals
...

Peacocks in sequence
on the dysphoric path

jockey between the mariachi,
...

A sequestered Sphinx
is just compacted silica

and yet here sobriety serenades
shaded surroundings.
...

Paralysis skulks from under Scandinavian furniture
into the gutter, spangled with unglamorous colours contradicting
a special Spartan mantra, grimly faded
in whatever decade happened twenty years ago.
...

Put it out there - prospective problem populants
have ditched unexpected pragmatism and are pushing for resolution.
Someone needs to go brave it,
show them their greying nebulus of submerged prospects,
...

Work in a bit more reality, they said. Eke out what you can.

Watch a waltz criss-cross across foully fragrant parades
to dodge a payload of puta falling from impertinent parakeets,
...

8.

Solemn manoeuvring toward anticlimax.
It's closer than they think. Along the way fantastical drama
from outstanding outsiders will, with partisan thudding,
encourage great mayhem, rendering queasy quotation marks
...

Everything seemed to hurtle along, intermittently interrupted
by reticence or liaising briefly with eviscerating rays.
We only worry when we see the same long shadows twice in a row.
...

Melodic clacks thrice rebound
a gluggy head, tippiest toes

hopscotch around insomniac dragons
...

Please don't anyone ruin that enigma
of the eternal pamphleteer,
whose place in reality is somewhat unclear.
She offers out vibrant slips with a Σ
...

A problem lurched - even pickled or loxed
pinkly sweet, it was no less perturbing.
That network of the noosphere, now faux-luxed,
alert, had frissoned with falciforming
...

In those repeating months of Spring, recto
and verso historians, Goya-eyed
chronologists and sly virtuoso
arch-revisionists cheerfully spread wide
...

There's an undulating throb in the Mammonic temple
that really resonates in precise conditions; i.e.
when masticating over particularly nasty pink gristle,
when overwhelmed by an oppressive mountain of guff,
...

There are legends of legionary squalid scoopers
fishing out dirty coppers from a silvery font
after an uncommunicative visit to the community centre,
where they draw the line between dole queue and pig trough.
...

Under a buzzing mechanical Cyclops,
the carefree run carelessly
through fields of fire-cracked sizzling rapeseed
backlit by the pure blue of firmament's filament.
...

Let's take off all our clothes. It's time for shamelessness.
On nights of self-reflection, we go skinny-dipping with our self-perception.
We join the stars dancing on the water
and we emerge, red-skinned not red-faced. A collared dove coo-coo-coos
...

Eagerly chiselling my sugar-coated self
from the syrup tsunami that flooded this town
after the molasses storage tank
burst in the night, I might take my old plane out
...

There'll be no leaving it alone now. This flaying of fumigators
and braying of bellyachers is a call to armistice
for laissez faire lexicographers across the land.
...

We've been moving at 1038 miles per hour for months
and yet we've gone nowhere. Awake sleeping. The cataracts
clouding our vision collide, an early morning blood rush with sneaked
liquors splashing against the sides of our ill stomachs. You joined me
...

The Best Poem Of Alexander Hawkins

Largest Largeness

Look into the largest largeness
beyond the brutalist choir

booming out stark music,
which fails to rebound
from echoless doom.

In the expanse
little transpires. Fuschia fumes
and parlour tricks,

which rarely are magical.
Look too long into the largeness,

turn it off and on again,
turn it off and on again.

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