…

thy eternal summer

faded in the eighties

      in the eighteen eighties

      then died from yellow fever

death’s head april

is the cruellest moth

      squint if snogging

      balls in all drawers then

pen another scattered then

& expand the symptoms

      of i.b.s

      as i.o flippin’ u

nothing in the stench of

another love sonnet

      pickled like the spheres

      of a mind in malt vinegar

piss another year

up the garden wallchart

      while spring sings

      long gone songs

of bards behind bars

& troubadours in lieu

      music is the glue

      & the rest is done with mirrors

…

…

pentecostal parakeet
paradiddle badger feet

peter piper’s cable car
ribbons swishing on a star

lion’s mouths – a roaring lawn
come the shaven crack of dawn

out among the adder’s stead
missus worthington is dead

intermittent damselflies
occidental alibis

operation table cloth
misted maidens, mizzle’s broth

button fingered buttresses
butter chins on duchesses

once upon a pickled pen
then demented morris men

…

…

missus speckled egg

with us ‘pon her cracking ground

sped around that sun

…

…

nothing is
the tartan paint
on your chocolate aga

nothing is the only
friend of billy-no-mates
& my favourite subject

nothing is available
in pairs of one
or magenta

nothing is the sound
of brian blessed shouting
in the depths of space

as space is a vacuum
like a giant dyson
or a massive hoover

nothing is an egg
– the fool before the fall
or a poltergeist’s new shoes

nothing is the sway
of this ancient woodland
on this stagnant day

nothing is the total sum
of sweet fanny adams
plus fuck all

…

…

fucking blossom blooms

bastard showers piss it down

lamb shit on new shoes

…

…

& the lord said

let there be limeade

& yesterday died

when midnight sighed

& the traffic lights

turned sky blue

& a furrow was ploughed

on your fertile brow

& the romans scratched

their big noses

& the london eye blinked

in the wink of an i

& the morning wore

a green shellsuit

& the afternoon clashed

with its crimson skin

& the moral

is tossed in translation

& the rub

is a cat on a beanpole

& forever is

a spare pair of oxford shoes

& the internet

is not your long lost cousin

…

…

p rocatination is a timely thief

r olling stones squash hedgehogs

o ne man’s meat is another man’s carrot

v anilla is the spice of custard

e very cloud has a shit load of rain

r ules were meant to arouse civil servants

b eauty is in the hands of the bee holder

s eek & ye shall firefly

…