hobbyist apocalypse

 

  • The Campanologists decided
  • to end with a clang
    
    defy the essence of time
    
    in chimey unison rang.
    
    
    
    
    
    The Philatelists pored & ogled through
    
    their Stanley Gibbons books
    
    whilst licking the front of their favourites
    
    & shedding tears - with final goodbye looks.
    
    
    
    
    
    The Ikebanists they seemed to
    
    at last lose their powers
    
    so now devoid of their Dark-Witchcraft
    
    unarranged lovely flowers.
    
    
    
    
    
    Plus the poet-lot simply wrote on
    
    as all shit crumbled & evil winds blew
    
    oceans drowned & mountain ranges tumbled
    
    but their stray words dreamed
    
    of dawns anew
    
    ...
    
    
    
    
    
    
    

have you seen my unicorn?



I don't suppose you've seen my Unicorn

?

I've been searching high

 then low,

I tethered him outside my

local Happy Shopper

- oh I wonder where the tosser could go

?





Is he in the library

studying Cuneiform

?

I've scanned as far as my eyes can see,

maybe it's poachers

or invisibility

as upon his horn is now worn

the ring of Gyges

?

...





auguries of tinnitus

I don't remember the Stone Age

or the Bronze Age

for that matter

;

I've never even heard of Rosencratz,

that Mastodon

or wiped out the Quagga.





Loose tiles on a vile Shrovetide

bits of brisk gale

& shards of dark shatter

-

no, sorry I don't own that nosedive

plus I've never seen toads fly

fuck off now

& scatter

...






legerdemain(ia)


We Spell your many names

- we do

on assortments

of blank A4 pads,

neat pumice & tattered rags,

scribbled ink hand's;

riddles yet to understand.





We try to remember them all

in order

before they're once more

rearranged

compelled by forces

varied & strange

- we Spell your many names

...



the cress years


Yes 1 remembers cress

with a distinct fond

ness

the stubby sweaty thumbs

of its uncle-esque caress.





The way it laughed & cried

like turpentine

was far-right at times

& made myrtle wine.





Plus who can lest forget

the rash on its left elbow

that resembled

Rasputin or the Isle of Wight?

But that was many Manis

& several Lunas gone now

- mere dingy memories

dwindled of light

...