Danny D. Ford’s poetry, illustration and photography have appeared in numerous online & print titles, including the chapbooks ‘Raffle’ & ‘Wellbeing’ – Poems For All 2021, ‘Sunshine Junkie’, ‘Flexeril Haikus’ & ‘Slides for Alberto’ – Between Shadows Press 2021, ‘Perforated by Sirens‘ – Analog Submission Press 2020. ‘The Unfolding Head’ is co-founder & compère of Dust Your Broom open-mic night & print collective Never Kill a Rainbow, in Bergamo, Italy, where he lives and works as a teacher.
Watch Daddy’s Pint
for it is the drink of a man who will spend eleven hours a day lifting the weight of family grief from the back pallets of his brethren 72 tonne forklifts are easier to deal with than death watch daddy’s pint for it is a drink held by cracked hands bruised by the blows rained down on anyone who steps out of line watch daddy’s pint for it is nectar it is laughter on the back porch by a garage by a grill in debt & out of reach from the law CID cannot cross the borders of a chemical universe where joyriding spores encourage flowers to dance like trojan horses on the track under the lights watch daddy’s pint cos it’s right there on the floor by your foot
Do Not Pass Go
You walk around at night 66cl of warm beer in your pocket frothing against the broken seams a dead rose for a dead lover inked on your forearm we were busy hating everyone but you stopped anyway handed the remains of your joint to my friend kindness by the bag telling him next time he sees you there’ll be more limpet eyes in the bright light your bald head is a laughing skull my friend later looked me in the eye & told me with real regret he was pretty sure the tobacco had been found on the ground
(For Alberto) The loaded arm clicks & makes clunking sounds splintered cracking like arthritic bones ‘I can see the mental state he was in from his photos’ she says ‘one box was just the same rose over and over again’ but some are of tourists dancing in sunlit piazzas of motorbikes posing like girlfriends hair down & cigarette dangling sunsets over roadside railings of soft children acorn headed & damp from summer heat of tents on mountainsides & unblemished faces laughing in tracksuits of church spires & mist between pine trees of ducks on rippled lakes formula 1 cars & endless portraits of horses maybe we can finally understand something more but even this had to be salvaged from a polythene bag earmarked for the bin