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wobble juice ( a poetry )
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whiplash orangeade shetland pony hand grenade smacked-up kipper jam ...
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wobble juice ( a poetry )
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whiplash orangeade shetland pony hand grenade smacked-up kipper jam ...
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bleesings count ( a ? )
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birdsong in winter morning dew this evening breakfast for supper sunshine come nightfall ...
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plod-stuff ( a true story )
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our elbows glowed where noses shone us muddled bunch so bumble on through fields of green in sways of still there is no breeze today upon us squelchy sods so yon we plod with thoughts of warts & peas in pods as badgers burst & gardens groan whilst on the road - a toad's skin's shod our ankles itch - is this a gift? we look to lunch as pollen drifts we follow paths & fallow deer as sieve-like minds they gently sift when all is spun a tune a is hummed the back door calls, the walk is done the annals wait to hear of tales beneath a montomic sun ...
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sync together ( a nonrick )
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the kettle sang when gargoyles glanced as goblins ate their anoraks our elbows glowed on cobbled roads the curtains twitched - the hay barn danced ...
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the marmalade is snarling ( a poem )
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the marmalade is snarling
the beast within the spread
the preserve stirs
with almost words
soon it shall rip our bones to shreds
i'm marmafraid, oh darling
let's flee let's we'll be dead
& quickly too
in blurry shoes
for sanctuary & jam instead
...
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noted ( some o’ that )
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isthmus shuttlecocks puddle ducks christmas socks citrus speckled logs paper cuts chippy chops aspic pigeon coughs addled stuff aftershocks drastic hoppy scotch monkey nuts rabbit hops listless suckled ox honey pots money box witness muddled lot lucky shot ocelot mastic kitchen pots tangled knots fuck the what bat shit chickenpox scuttle off that's shallot ...
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blue bewail song ( squint & it’s a bastard tapestry )
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your hamster's toast, your ghost has flown your weasel's popped, your lemon's sucked your badger's burst, your adder's cursed your band has split, your chicken's clucked your orchard's dust, your monkey's nuts your whistle's drowned, your bile is duct your owl has howled, your vole is hole your robin's hood, your friar's tucked your horse is norse, your pasta's past your art is arse, your car is trucked your wings have flapped, your ring has shat your peas are mush, your strings are plucked your cousin's fine, your well is dry your goose is moose, your quack has ducked your heaven's bread, your slugs have fled it's just your luck - ha ha - you're fucked ...
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sprawling scrawls ( some 21st century wobble-juice )
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i'm scrawling sprawls in shit black ink on helpful hands & exposed skin i'm dawdles of a doodled ilk & tattooed scraps of bastard whim i'm scribbles of a symbol mind from flapping wings of bastard gist i'm nudges plus protection too & makeshift bits of shopping lists i'm tangents like a spider's web & pilchard sods of inner-jokes i'm faithful jots - forget me not & other looming ghostly notes i'm floating hopes & pressing too a wistful wink, a gentle nudge 'fore dark clouds throb - the cloudburst falls i'm smearing down to just a smudge ...
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’twas ( a shiteku 4 u )
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pole dancing pollsters pole vaulting greasy polecats mayday in poland ...