Doug Jones

Doug Jones initially studied English at Warwick and then completed an MPhil on the poet Bill Griffiths. While doing his MPhil he fell in with Bob Cobbing’s Writers Forum group – which was a huge influence. After college, he worked as a nurse in east London and then retrained as a doctor. He has published four books of his poetry with Veer and Salo press, a new book is pending with Contraband. Work has also appeared in datableed, VLAK, Chicago Review – as well as a few other places. He is currently working as a GP in Yarmouth.

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From Posts

20/7/23

“Dex depression, gold, whizzy as a river, + price. Often passed to one

side. But if you given the ticket, it’s fixed to you. Stuck to you, in

eternal downstream euphoria. Great Central Rich – 3 tips for the heave,

cataract, from which you won’t get up. Reduced, yet out of control – in

the oedematous dance of the tarantula. Oh, I wish we could be still”

27/7/23

“I + you have put laws to carbon dioxide, been rigorous in their

manuscription. For what? A repeating series of plants, animals. They

appear to be plants + animals. The jury’s out, cut. I heard this. Carbon

dioxide – turning on its cut + these energies lifting + fall – it’s a matter

of time – education. Because if the world be simple, I was taking It like

this. I was looking at a bee on the roof. The ex-prisoner is this”

3/8/23

“Is a problem with the platinum supply, we need more of it, more of

it. Everyone’s culpable – down the primrose path. Burned through

the plat, in most human of all vices, desperate for a few more hours

we invite water in our cells, fool cells. O to live. But we been judged.

From the days of Adam, we’ve been paid. Time to beg proper man,

vault to the carbon + keep it down. Pay the god in gold”

10/8/23

“The woman only had 1 leg. The other leg was there – but it hurt her

so much she been fired. Her mop job. I run through the crimes in

poetry all of them the fools I’ve done + learnt. Can, carbon how

dense you are in that’. Plump in the face + white. I can’t forget it,

with 2 perfectly good hard legs. My dog has 4 – they hand around

the ring like this. Is to live in a world of interrelated carbon –

cleanest”

17/8/23

“Strong men line the surface of the cell. Utopia, but how they sniff, snivel,

how they wheeze. Said these toughs are immortal HIS con-initiation,

inflammation, g-protein, gang in the ligand which wings ta mean expel,

going of the ragin’ itch. Overrubbed blind! It do you good, or not,?

Pathogen – to form a wheal an empty hay. Old employed the sports,

the metal jock – the magnificent – most permeable boy”

24/8/23

“Can a plant have an allergy? The thorn, in it block, might it struggle

building, enfolded in IgE, like a tree would? Bringing light as it

grows, interpolating in a restless sub-loop, not far off thought, a

Man, frozen, gasping, sensing the threat that I, you, might throw

such bands of? The antigen overwhelm the forest. With the core to

fight but, Tree in the wall, suffering too much desire, wishing to get

home”

31/8/23

“Sit still, and register the stone poems, fluted under the sea with the type

in kind cop. A piece of lost world Triassic sequence, seen through in

different eyes. I feel through it and this guy says, ‘the carbon’s gone to

the station as rock’. All Truth, Beauty a lens shaped pill that once were a

beast, but now a shell + nothing getting seen through, except rich kids

and their parents – infernal word of sun”

7/9/23

“Thank you for returning the money you did not use. That was kind,

thank you. Now you’re at home, I very much wish you’d stayed. I think

you’re a good, soul – though we talked only once. About you, who are

you? I am a singer, there are songs here, in the angel typed frieze that

surrounds us, I don’t know who painted it. Beautiful, not eternal. But the

things I do for money. I know you understand”

19/10/23

“Hey hey hey, it’s the law, it’s the poor, sick housing taking over the

imaging machines. Picture of a new world. O you can’t see it, it’s oh

cool. But look in the face of patient x, making of the magister house,

the house of mould. Machine it at least twice to clean up the day, zero

hours + boss, down to the marks. They have their bombers, their vast

letters that spell Asthma, they write asking for brown”

26/10/23

“The way of Grace. In Krishna many things have been thought of. He is

something like a saint. Peace to the world. You can read his story from

beginning to end + he is shown as many ghosts as you could imagine.

In this iteration all of his ghosts are true. Heaven – the glories of it,

saints as children, saints at the immolation – left hand raised in

prayer. Course Peter – to a temple, presiding central ghost”

2/11/23

“What is the space where the private little ball can flourish, mask like –

hidden from the world, known only to themselves. Directed through a

to say compulsion, to a pill, that silent in the magus surgery hands,

work – with a single Heaven, on section and that trip is a body. Quiet

shifting, room plastic with animal features – the wash with water, un

derided face – written in the purest, most simple term”

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