In Germany children have brought me thousands of flowers

There is no photo of David Hasselhoff 
in the Checkpoint Charlie Museum.

He says there should be.
He says he helped the wall 
fall
singing “Looking for Freedom”
at the Brandenburg Gate.

He represented a new world of
talking Trans Ams
and perma tan life guards
jiggling in slow
motion.

After his performance he hacked 
at pieces of the wall
with the black, red and yellow of the German flag on
and blessed the German people 
with an example of Capitalism in action.

“I gave the small pieces to my colleagues on Baywatch”
he said
“and kept the big piece for myself”.



On the Job

The caretaker who swept me off my feet
The clockmaker who wound me up
The Policeman who made me a prisoner of his love
The TV repairman who turned me on
The mathematician I could count on
The gun runner who said I made him shoot his load
The civil servant who said he’d tie me up in red tape, subject to
Relevant EU regulations.
The car dealer who clocked me
The Christmas cracker tester who pulled me
The baker who kneaded me
The burglar who stole my heart
The scuba diver who took my breath away
The train driver who said I kept his boiler stoking
The comedian who looked me up and down and said
“You must be joking”. 



The poem that doesn't mention the poet 

Dropping a dummy

from a curled fist

the shock of

recognition,      
for the first time,       
reaching out to stroke glass.

Look                                                                            
what mirrors can hide.
One day the biggest illusionist in Las Vegas  

or Nasa                                                    
will disappear the planet.                                  
Speculators from Andromeda                      
only getting     
an involuntary glimpse of their best side    
as they rocket past.

See               
the therapist        
reflecting back

"So it's people who          
pretend            
not to have a mask      
who are the most dangerous?"

Watch        
the performer

centre stage

light bouncing off                   
sweat and sequins,      
refracting through a thousand       
audience lenses.

Caught
in the act                                   
of hiding.          
Revealed in the act 
of concealing.     
Who could doubt

that we exist. 

28/11/04




Caller 103 wins the Madonna Tickets.

She’s counting
one elephant, two elephant…
like waiting for fake tan to dry
or the blue line on a pregnancy test

He’s counting
green lights on the phone board.
Numbered up to seven
not one hundred and three.

He sees seven flashing green,
adjusts his jeans 
prepares to choose

She’s got a feeling in her water
she says to her Mum,
starts to press redial.

He’s got to get a caller to air now,
jabs buttons, “Hello” and “Keep trying”
rejects too old voices, not quite right voices.

She’s listening to her inner self,
like it says in Cosmo,
doing it when it feels right.

He’s listening for someone
who’ll go off like a rocket on bonfire night,
just a breath’s enough to tell.

She hears the phone being picked up 
and everything goes blurry.

He shouts “You’re lucky caller 103”!
and has to turn his headphone volume down.

Triumphant, buzzing,
telling her Mum
she knew she’s be caller 103….she just knew

Replaying her reaction,
telling his producer
he knows how to pick a screamer…he just knows.