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piffle void  (  a  t r u e  s t o r y  )

…

in spotted socks & donkey frocks

as if the flim had tinned the pots

of fairy phlegm & spun the spoon

of happenstance the black baboon


in clotted dross & zombie socks

as if the shrew had spewed the flocks

of curdled birds & tossed the tune

of speckled vests on vast bassoons


in knotted whats & wonky toss

as if the hymn had rid the pox

of hairy mayors & plucked the prune

of pan the flan in pantaloons


in jotted blots & on we trots

as if the fox had spat the crops

of mutant june & yet the moon

has slapped & sapped the afternoon

...