plunder & spillage

~

plunder & spillage ( egallips & rednulp )

boris is a johnson

but today is buttercups

ingrown toenails

& filthy flemish folk songs

~

candles waxing lyrical

wing until a miracle

let there be libraries

& bees beneath bonnets

~

i am not a carlist

or a cartouche character

do you do voodoo

every other tuesday?

~

where the air is savoury

sweeter than a pea

streaming silver trails

– oh, those supersonic snails

~

if it’s red ahead

then the students need re-schooling

let them eat cacus

& other roman ogres

~

let the seekers seek

sunshine & shower gel

lost backdoor keys

& man-eating owls

sploshing on

~

sploshing on ( no gnihsolps )

hopping like a frog
hoping there’s a sun above
in the midland’s bog

swimming on the land
where the ocean’s greeting me
england’s sinking sand

dripping droplet drips
from a howling shroud of clouds
pissing on y’chips

splashing puddled pools
blurs the mer of men in macs
ghouls in blue cagoules

dawn ’til after after dark
under pickled onion skies
better build an ark

sploshing on again
water, water, water falls
plodding sodding rain

have you noticed too?

~

have you noticed too? ( ?oot deciton uoy evah )

song is cycles, spinning wheels
weeping while the onion peels

we, the piffled ink a path
clear the blear of scatter’s graph

see the warts & balls of all
scribble ’til the curtain’s call

spring is winter in disguise
under pickled onion skies

snow is flakes of frozen rain
roundabouts is back again

bounce upon this broken road
flap a bat & shat y’load

turn a bridge & burn a screw
salad is a language too

civil servants speak this tongue
like the snooze & breed in dung

kids in masks is child abuse
alcohol is cabbage juice

sport is adults playing games
war is sport with added flames

guns ‘n’ bombs – the ratings soar
like a pig – so die some more

kiss the coffers of cabals
weasel as the woodland gnarls

bread & butter fills a hole
television sucks the soul

covid is a cattle prod
cash is king – but not a god

scrawl, the world’s a pantomime
miss the drift but catch a rhyme

all the whirl’s a swishing well
normalzzz is a prison cell

the nu-normalzzz

~

the nu-normalzzz ( zzzlamron-un eht )

when the wart is ovaries

we, the weevil spawn

children of the growing nose

glowing – like a worm

~

us, the shivered servants of

winter with a twist

gimps of global gubbins

gibbons of the guff

~

myrmidons of pricks ‘n’ ticks

drones of s & m

while the earth is gurning

like a phetted goon

~

we, the spoons of mutant moons

worshippers of keys

fodder of the sci-fi

& fans of dancing nurses

~

we, the soy in hoi poloi

splattered by statistician shit

shattered, shatted, shafted up

the jitty path with glee

~

shall begin & face the beige

smiling like a bot

under shifting shrouds of clouds

spankful for our lot

the things we catch

~

the things we catch ( hctac ew sgniht eht )

beams of solar rays
stones within a roaming shoe
gravel stowaways

rabbits on the hop
poems on a paper plane
busses at the stop

breath between the climbs
weasel schemes in missing plots
treason in the rhymes

feathers on a breeze
fodder of the bumblebees
pollen with a sneeze

sniffles & achoo
scribbles in a riddled key
music is the glue

bullets from a gun
drifts ‘n’ gists of blithered lists
rivers on the run

r e s t a r t s

~

r e s t a r t s ( s t r a t s e r )

ing the rectal bell

      in the dingle’s dell

dge a border’s line

      salt the seas of brine

s trike the iron plum

      ee the by of gum

oss another turn

     as the normalzzz burn 

mble on this track

      anoraks attack

ock the rolling hills

      ruffle feathered quills

wist a circle straight

      skating figure eights

wift in swooping loops

      sing til supper soups