Author: resarfpoetry

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parish councillor song

…

i’m a parish councillor
& the birdie song
is my mobile’s ringtone

i’m a parish councillor
i cycle with no helmet
‘cos i play golf with death

i’m a parish councillor
& all these cardigans
were hand knitted by artisans

i’m a parish councillor
& once i had a scooby-doo
& hair like george michael

since is the prince
& cash in brown envelopes
& cloudy amber ales

as i’m a parish councillor
& one of my young granddaughters
looks like jimmy nail

yes, i’m a parish councillor
just helping out my friends
& giving something back

oh, i’m a parish councillor
& charity is me
& hallowed by my name

…

neath long raincoats

…

baggy trousers
not the spanners

of the normalz
in their tight jeans

in a cloudburst
out the other

while we stroll in
looser garments

gargle forth with
wonky songbooks

yet red herrings
they pretend we’re

disappearing
in their sadness

& codswallop
twice is better

in the attic
of the nutter

soon is later
than last morning

thurisaz then
see yuz later

so begin once
more with onions

they the weeping
us the green fields

…

tree time

…

we became a tree
with skin as hard as bark
& squirrels upstairs

the woodpeckers peck
the winter storms test us all
with bellowing bursts

of blow yer own horn
but we’re the giants’ hatstands
– owls were here last night –

in the woodland’s bowels
in the here of fade away
waiting for that spring

to reboot like feet
even though we now have roots
in am-dram workshops

…

( instead we )

…

rewrote the dictionary
with a twist this time

fed the magic magpies
& the cheeky jackdaws

swam with snakes & mermaids
& sucked on a polo mint

found a rhyme for orange
in a medieval dung heap

renamed the rain clouds
after eurovision winners

muddled on by
with very little sleep

…