photography

kumquat may

~

kumquat may ( yam tauqmuk )

…

in the fourteenth century
up a walnut tree

enter seven digit code
hit the bloody road

salad is a ballad
flap another fragment

facing the brace
of a fresh west wind

down with the owls
in a hooded oaken wood

with a rusty spanner
& a jelly baby sandwich

my middle name
was never craig or gordon

i preferred your early work
when the earth was purple

…

internet storm warning

~

internet storm warning ( gninraw morts tenretni )

…

masts on the moor

( scaring off crows )

rattle like trees

( kids play with snakes )

drumming the rain

( falling indoors )

i spy my my

( weathercock eye )

so & so strayed

( from the wrong path )

so & so said

( something or other )

then echoes flow

( pissing upstream )

redder than herrings

( brainstream spools )

as the bloody bots

( flesh & the code )

stir the phantom potty

( plastic & cracked )

for all who swim in

( run a hot bath )

read a good book

( hashtag s.o.s )

…

promo poem

~

promo poem ( meop omorp )

…

grown under moonlight
made in cydonia

voted number one
by tea leaf readers

& lollipop ladies
who gave us five stars

each unique barcode
was jazz hand carved

ten percent of florists
found the secret passage

three in four badgers
never saw it coming

also available
in yellow or magenta

or dark matter
but good luck with that

six in seven shepherds
loved it like their flock

all organic
even the tentacles

typed over time
by a trillion chimps

brewed in a vat
with tramp underpants

under warranty
’til the end of the holocene

unconfused
despite the kali yuga

ten thousand barn owls
can’t be bloody wrong

eighty eight percent of goblins
said it was delicious

…

pen forth, penfriends

~

pen forth, penfriends ( sdneirfnep ,htrof nep )

…

rollerball buddies
tossers of the daily sprawl
sponsored by posca

black marker partners
paper white – like elephants
singing with a wrist

calligraphy cohorts
bullet tip associates
on the ballpoint boys

highlighter fishwife’s
& fountain pen mountain men
scrawling like spiders

feathered quill brethren
sisters of the squidy well
stilo amigos

we, the scribble’s kin
irkers of the qwerty keys
writing like a ghost

…

pardon?

~

pardon? ( ?nodrap )

…

where are my car keys?
– quarter past seven

can you smell gas?
– sticky toffee pudding

what time’s kick off?
– the sea of tranquility

do you take sugar?
– nought point five

will it rain later?
– fire salamanders

do you know your postcode?
– long john silver

have you lost some weight?
– six clarinets

cash or card?
– probably osmosis

when’s the next bus?
– sunny side up, please

is there a god?
– try the airing cupboard

have you fed the dog?
– the royal albert hall

is this a poem?
– bicarbonate of soda

…

exit plandemic

~

exit plandemic ( cimednalp tixe )

…

middle afternoons

drinking flat pop

      from a plastic beaker

      as the ‘rona fizzles

lo, a bridge aflame

see the normalzzz turn

      even snooze readers

      & children of the kool aid

but some muzzled cling

drooling for the bell

      hardcore zealots

      lost in their masada

walk beyond the song

of a winter swan

      don’t excuse the mess

      of this dress rehearsal

finches summon spring

singing waterloo

      as clouds gather

      on a hillock’s brow

so the future spools

fodder for the ghouls

      wear a beige raincoat

      & green jackboots

…

alternative names for the moon

~

alternative names for the moon ( noom eht rof seman evitanretla )

…

cousin of the sun

david niven’s balloon

cheeky, cheesy chops

fodder of space-mice

old crater face

dean martin’s pizza

nephew of the death star

werewolf activator

mistress of up there

renfield amplifier

lover of the lunatics

shaper of the dreamscape

shooter of beams

master of the tides

as the midges bite

warden of the night

…

( author notes )

& i’ve heard word – from a reliable source

that the actor, comedian

& game show host – les dennis

is in fact … a straight man

( gasp )

apparently dennis used to be married

to that amanda holden – & all sorts

& she’s not a les

she’s an amanda instead

( another gasp )

so dennis has been fooling us all

since at least the fucking eighties

( it’s an absolute swizz )

…

my nine lives

~

my nine lives ( sevil enin ym )

…

beneath the speeding wheels
of a mobility scooter
( drag racing with a milk float )

napping in pudding lane
as the flames crept in

an eagle dropped aeschylus
on my moggy head

dozing on atlantis
as the waters rose

bitten by vampire bats
eaten by giant rats

catching the cream
that was best before
last august

stuck up a larch tree
for half a century

with my heart broken
by a two-timing persian

…