excuses, excuses, excuses, excuses, excuses


excuses, excuses, excuses, excuses, excuses  (  ?  )

silage is golden

the dog ate the silage

freddie starr ate my last rolo


i fell into a puddle

on a rainy daze

in gloucester

& met suranne jones

& a narwhal from atlantis


it's pantomime season

& the garden gnomes are wassailing


moles are the only true

ground breakers left


if i were a ptarmigan

in a tartan cardigan


cows keep mooing


the goalposts


3 thoughts on “excuses, excuses, excuses, excuses, excuses

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s