blog

chuntering left

…

in between the drops
& the drips from the tap
in the bathroom’s sink

holes for all your pigeons
a smidgeon of ink
a wink & a nod

off before the whistle
yet we never saw
those thunderclouds coming

up from the ground
a mystery is blooming
chuntering left

to this very laptop
& other such devices
download complete

& then repeat
looping those cassettes
retracing echoes

of the future’s spanners
picking up steam’s litter
grabbing at the fog

horns on his head
tread with feathered feet
we, the incomplete

& utter gubbins
fall like an autumn
chorally crow

…

you are here ( s )

…

catching the last
sunbeams of summer
& the first warmth of spring

shivering like timbers
with mittens blue & woollen
in a frosty schoolyard

typing away
with your other monkey chums
writing shakespeare plays

whilst burnt alive
for being a lollard
in the fourteenth century

catching up your umbra
running with a stick
in a three-legged race

tucking away
on a stuffed dormouse
in old londinium

but laughing at the guttering
sputtering down
on a piss wet day

…

further & more

…

beyond the swan

& in between

      the closing sings

      an opening

the seasons tease

the breezes crow

      the flow is though

      a river’s bend

a kingfisher

a fissure here

      apocryphal

      is possible

the near is far

a wooden spoon

      a garden gate

      & middle eight

a flighty sky

my feathered friend

      the end is just

      the cusp of soon

but when is then

& rubber gloves

      or turtle doves

      the morning squawks

…