like orangutans morris dancers are a dying bunch so you can now adopt one from just £5 a month this will pay for bells & ale neglect itself's a crime but orangutans make actual sense cheers - thank you for your time ...
photography
… an ever-shrinking christmas card list …
i had a row about owls with my shadow last year so now we're quite distant when once so near i think he moved to timbuktu or was it skegness? it's lonely when the light's right & i miss our games of chess ...
put y’ foot down
a brownfield site among the shite on a wank december's night a sewage farm the bowels of hell a plague pit piled vile sights - foul smells a crash-smash drenched in weeping rain among the bits of plane meets train or a y'oldey war - those cannon balls nah, that's no place for a picnic at all ...
plods
let's plod these meadows leagues & yards the sunshine turns the sheep shit hard them hedgerows sing of bits of spring charybdis an opening the buttercups are yellowing the bluebells ring the nettles sting so let's roam this shat for bastard miles plus once upon a nackered stile i found a wallet with loads of cash in it so i kept it ... ( ... author nodes ... sometimes poems ... just end ... the don't end-end, they just end, sorry about that ... )
oh well & bollocks to it …
wood land land wood handstands good good mugwort rickshaws foxgloves jigsaws deep roots fun nymphs shin pads sun glimpse somewhere bark free top copse wrong tree ...
science-shit
if that there archimedes had never-ever washed he'd have stunk to high-heaven & we'd be at a loss but he got in that bath then them waters got deeper thus inventing the word & moment - EUREKA ...
wild flowers among castle ruins
wild flowers among castle ruins the head's a beverage thoughts-a-brewin' as life plods on & all that glibness they say here's haunted a wraith i've yet to witness apart from the headless ones consequences - quencecons a punished uprising but now most of the stones have gone as bricks for the local homes scattered yet abound like these wild flowers but the other way around ...
hop is hope without the e at the end
there were at least 3 ants & an earwig in my shoe & as-per the wind chime that technically a zoo so i just wore the left 1 & hopped - as we do like a nucking futter to our evening rendezvous ...
on the day of woden
a when-inclined breeze gently rustles the rowan as spring muddles on spreading green things in motion i wonder how old's birdsong? it's a puzzling notion but the sky is blue - like hidden clues on the day of woden ...
the snails told me to run away…
eccles cakes & echo chambers april's tangents friends & strangers cobwebs & a minor splinter on the tip of my finger & the nineteen year winter threatenings of former-year's fears doe a female crocodile muntjac deer tears gobshite tapestries woven sporadically osperys are top-notch & spring's a charged battery ...
resarf poetry 