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Douglas Jones

Doug 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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“Old pine forest, formless life. Who read yr face, trees?

What did that face mean? 1st image: in light, 2nd, found

something like you, autonomous, to a map. Slavish.

Short lived - + a threat: ghost cracked image of water,

trees, something majestic, with worlds. When should it

die? True representation, a nature, which you must

understand – if you are ever to understand hell. Tree

colour, the wrath”


“What a beautiful day, in the catch. Demeter’s from hell +

streets begging, burgeoning with independent women,

springs dark clothes – face made of oaks far bigger than

their heads – extraordinary forest grown up. Seriousness

of ancient seniority runs of, emerges of a sun, old light –

comparisons every gas. Never far off a carpet of new

skin or homes. Demeter, his a picture of fire”


“You’re either alive or you’re not – bean + that’s what’s

going to happen, yet no binary’s completely true or

there’d never be a breeder. Outliers give the

governance to a falsehood – for it’s there, in the gut,

where dead’s reimagined by enzyme action of ?slave –

money, being, things unknown. Cryptogenic, in wonder,

is chyme death or life.. Roll out the stone muscle, man’s

born. Day as a wasp”


“NHS at 72. International money the tender plants, green

hounds tongue – is a poppy. Associated with ex-cons,

accommodated on a water meadow back. Were long

days – looking for Morgan Stanley in the interrelation of

living things. Many objects have breath, but none of

them are real – these are the skyscrapers. Found a grey

dagger, firm & nobody. Eternal plant – laid down at J.P.

Morgan’s bed”


“About the drowning. Dad said he saw the girl in trouble,

but thought it was a swan at the time. Black skin –

clothes inside out, collapses in water still. Where’s her

cottons now? what coffees bought for her tonight, +

teas? Which fundamental component was her agony?

Dress was from a sail boat, with not a driving part. Its

sum, sum, never a machine, a slave ship, deep physical

composite – no charge”


“Walking down a road, saw this coat on the floor +

thought – well that’s not much use to him now, not as a

coat. Purified it in fire of course + the poor person inside

– what a song + dance. Now I do nothing. He was in my

room last week, sat very quiet, still. In factory

tenements, convulsing hands, keened desire, these are

the acts. But please, this infant’s hungry, + she needs to

have some milk”


“Good people. If war is it muffins, mutton + biscuits. THE

SALT LICKS, nutrition fresh from frozen big walls.

Clay’s got most goodness – like that forever, trace

elements don’t suffer the sleepers at all. Reactive ship

protein, THE NEW HOUSE FOOD - magnesium stops

hungry, Crown Farm workers get through. Buffalo /

neighbour crowd round the bridegroom – feeling the

mother, a rigging. Intensely..”


“Howcome whenever you meet with authority you

leave with nothing, satan. With yr play colt American-Indian-

boy – scout rules. Inclothes, in fancy dance round the

lower part of hell – trad a £ spear at devils who crowd

the ground. Is that what you want, chief? Be embraced

by hell, agitated – consumed? Or let back into white

camp now? But no, you can’t have more sports, silly,

that’s gone”


“Stroked my arm, satan, gently, with some affection.

We’d just met + you were old, 90, so how could you be

coming on? + aren’t you tired? Is very hot in hell, with all

white devils buzzing, catcalling, wanting you to wash

them out their crimes. – so that when we met yr

extermination wouldn’t be about them, only. A long

burning darkness satan, with you. Promise to sweep the

world of contact”



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