an open letter to a time not so long ago …

dear last tuesday afternoon,

thanks for not raining down

frogs or toads

thanks for the lemon curd sandwich

lunch was a triumph

in itself

thanks for not giving me aids

i can still hear quite well

in me better left ear

thanks for the stickiest – sweetest

of traffic jams

& conserves

thanks for the sunshine

& ice cream

& for tying my shoelaces tight

thanks for not shatting your load

& for helping all those hedgehogs

safe across the road

thanks for the pareidolic filth

we all clearly saw

in your obscene clouds

thanks for the kingfisher

i saw swishing by

at three thirty three

– pee effing emm

& thanks for not nuking us all

or striking me three times

with lightning

( nice one )

bursting with p

pineapple poets
painting paddleboats purple
pensively pausing

plink plonk pianos
penguin penfriends pickle prose
pluviophiles purr

pastoral pirates
perplex peevish poltergeists
pigeons peck pancakes

peter piper prays
precipitation’s pending
plentiful puddles

( & don’t forget )

a waterproof

your backdoor key

the spear of destiny

a pen, a pad

a can of ginger beer

a cardigan

a mars bar

frankincense

myrrh

vaseline

rubber johnnies

garlic cloves

chewy toffee

silver bullets

toothbrush, toothpaste

pickled peppers

five gold rings

my bow of burning gold

my arrows of desire

firelighters

safety matches

ants in your pants

fire extinguisher

rubber chickens

bucket loads of brevity

pickled peppers

a wanker hat

the kitchen bloody sink

& your memory

four seasons in one may

green becomes greener
      as rabbits multiply
vivaldi’s slinky
      slithers down the stairs

then clouds disappear
      as if never effing here
shafts from the nearest star
      tan the garden gnomes

next the air turns like
      the tumble drier
of judas iscariot
      & frisks the haunted orchard

sooner than a should
      & shivers climb our spines
so the apple blossom snows
      her iced-white petals