~
shower proof helps ( spleh foorp rewohs )
…
shower proof helps – but
does eff all in a cloudburst
fool in a cagoule
…
~
shower proof helps ( spleh foorp rewohs )
…
shower proof helps – but
does eff all in a cloudburst
fool in a cagoule
…
~
eat duh boogs ( sgoob hud tae )
…
ladybird burgers
wasp stroganoff
earthworm noodles
termite pizza
fruit fly cake
caterpillar soup
centipede balti
head lice ice cream
dung beetle crumble
silverfish & chips
– delish
…
~
the bunting is munting ( gnitnum si gnitnub eht )
…
the silence was golden
a clamour is made
beholding the lost of
the wanker parade
a thunder of fuckers
a bitch of a groan
arranged by the folk who
won’t leave us alone
a floating of gloating
a schism of narc
the crows above circle
but never a lark
the sun is avoiding
the soiling of day
as mister punch swazzles
magonia’s grey
a tentful of tossers
& crap cover bands
the glasses are plastic
& warm in your hands
the lager is fizzless
an apt metaphor
so please putin save us
with nuclear war
a castle of bounces
the drowning ‘n’ bruised
the emptier vessels
are easily amused
the darkness in normalzzz
a forceful delight
the bunting is munting
the carnival’s shite
…
~
seen be to yet ( tey ot eb nees )
…
when chelsea tractors plough
the muddy fields beyond
& hug-a-mugger chuggers
run away
when all the rich philanthropists
leave us alone
& those effing jesuits
mind their own beeswax
as elton john’s wig
grows an inch – overnight
an alien emerges
out of simon parkes’s arse
climate change melts
the snow in all the snow domes
andrew windsor vindaloos
sweating not a drop
when poltergeists pose
on the cover of vogue
i’ll eat my own toe jam
on hot buttered teacakes
& play leapfrog
with wild boar or rhinos
as you’re crowned the new queen
of sheba – or whiskas
…
~
i heart asparagus ( sugarapsa traeh i )
…
oh, green sparrow grass
anagram of aura gasps
spearing me dearly
…
~
goes saying the as ( sa eht gniyas seog )
…
time to feed the unicorns
& face the candle’s bright
morris dance on mercury
& see the carrot knight
fight the cabbage dragon or
paint the piper’s door
kiss the vicar’s knicker drawer
& bid you all goodnight
…
~
william pitt the younger ( regnuoy eht ttip mailliw )
…
ti-dye artichokes
badger avant fireguard
dopamine donuts
…
~
a bits of a poemz ( zmeop a fo stib a )
…
the bus was late
like henry the eighth
( who died
in fifteen forty seven )
ten passed two
& eleven went twelve
( washing machines
live longer with calgon )
vans car by
but cars van faster
( they should have seen it coming
– the tay bridge disaster )
phil collin’s middle names
are david & charles
( there goes godot
in his souped-up milk float )
sixteen down
in the cryptid crossword
( a badger & an otter
crossed with an owl )
according to guiness
the oldest known woodlouse
( was aged eighty seven
& two months – in dog years )
cats can’t dance
the macarena backwards
( & the blackpool tower
is taller than saint paul’s )
why this trivia?
yonder is a songbird
( shitting on the vicar’s
peter storm cagoule )
…
~
william pitt the elder ( redle eht ttip mailliw )
…
foghorn forestry
fossilising friday’s face
fruit fly funerary
…
~
i buy my pegs from the gypsies ( seispyg eht morf sgep ym yub i )
…
the sailor went to the tailors
for his tights & an evening gown
the sailor went to the tailors
he paid five shillings & a crown
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
i buy my heather from them too
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
but i wrote this poem for you
the doctor rode on a donkey
the spinster span a life of grey
the doctor rode on a donkey
& sang this song upon his way
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
i buy my heather from them too
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
but i wrote this poem for you
the maidens milked of a morning
the dawning thought she had a choice
the maidens milked of a morning
& the town crier lost his voice
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
i buy my heather from them too
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
but i wrote this poem for you
the bishop bashed – with a hammer
a rusted nail upon a post
the bishop bashed – with a hammer
& swore he saw the holy ghost
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
i buy my heather from them too
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
but i wrote this poem for you
the miller wept in a windmill
the farmer slept in a barn
the miller wept in a windmill
so a minstrel minced a folk yarn
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
i buy my heather from them too
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
but i wrote this poem for you
the baron danced with a badger
the soldier fell into a well
the baron danced with a badger
as the clocksmith polished his bell
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
i buy my heather from them too
i buy my pegs from the gypsies
but i wrote this poem for you – for you
oh, i wrote this poem for you
…