photography

khaos luncheon

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khaos luncheon ( noehcnul soahk )

…

dice a pickled onion

with the sword of damocles

      fry like friar tuck

      or a japanese fly

with a cheesy nob of butter

or a bellend of oil

      on the bottomless bottom

      of an anus-shaped cauldron

stir in the tears

of sonnet-sobbing milksops

      watch ’til it boils

      with the eyes of a lord indra

humming like the horns

of beethoven’s fourth

      scatter phoenix ash

      foliage from phobus

unicorn pubes

& eighty eight parsnips

      add five panpipes

      & fifty seven wednesdays

simmer in the darkness

for six or seven epochs

      serve with steamed greens

      & the battle of the bulge

– enjoy

…

fill in the …

~

fill in the … ( …eht ni llif )

…

b adgers barking, hark

   but the pen’s a pencil case

   bugger all calling

l et there be spanners

   lemon scented letterheads

   light another tab

a nswer with antlers

   attack like helicopters

   arses in the air

n otice then the clocks

   nincompoop this interlude

   not stop ticking

k iss a magic kipper

   kick invisible tree stumps

   knight this greening night

s ight before vision

   scribbles on sabbaticals

   salmon swim sideways

…

21st century cabbages

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21st century cabbages ( segabbac yrutnec ts 12 )

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swans upon a morning’s moo

wronging songs of roll ‘n’ rock

like a pebble in a shoe

or a puppet in a sock

~

inks the rub of rubber ducks

flying like a mountain’s mist

bending earth of mother flux

this is not a shopping list

~

down among the dingle’s ring

sipping troughs upon the peaks

back before the badger king

scatters cushion buttock cheeks

~

but the buttress butter balls

bugger all is vaster than

all the twitching curtain calls

shit the road & hit the fan

~

fuck the truck of monster men

animism animates

mrs. sheet & mr. pen

friends again – so i’ve got mates

~

so the fog is dancing dogs

lo, the cloven clover trots

where the hare is boxing frogs

squint an i & dot the dots

…

bee a star

~

bee a star ( rats a eeb )

…

still the scree of green
weaving like a weevil’s nan
all is in between

catch a feathered drift
spin the morning’s hamster wheel
riddle middle’s rift

reel the rocking chair
rolling like a midland cob
hare the boxing air

gob a flight of phlegm
strolling england’s pheasant gland
ink of then & them

as the innards ring
nightly like a hag attack
see the pastures sing

buzz the stuff of lines
hum in summer’s swift decline
bumble on & shine
…

scissor kicks

~

scissor kicks ( skcik rossics )

…

tarred but infeathered

      farting like a marsh

as the spanners dance

      with the ghost of broken biscuits

weaving inbetween

      see the forest flap

fly with bingo wings

      monday is an urban myth

fellow geminis,

      is there life on marzipan?

where the air is beans

      or a shade of shitehawk

walking up the walls

      with a nuthatch swagger

on the eighty eighth of april

      with a parsnip up my arse

…

oh, those dog roses

~

oh, those dog roses ( sesor god esoht ,ho )

…

let slip the namesakes
thorns but no paws

sleep between the wars
sweeter than a canon

balls is all this morning
bollocks is the bollocks

dozing in the garden
as the catnip purrs

her of the whiskered
whispering witchcraft

watches with cobnuts
so summer’s mutts

gleam between sunbeams
shining like sirius

barking in hedgerows
up the prickled hawthorn
…

pppoooeeetttrrryyy

~

pppoooeeetttrrryyy ( yyyrrrttteeeoooppp )

…

pisspot platitudes
pennies from magonia
purple prose comas

odd sock odysseys
otters in your pocket watch
operatic owls

etch upon the mist
elemental excrement
echoes in hedgerows

type tripe titterings
trundle up the eiderdown
tonguing twisted toss

roar like a mouse mat
roundabouts & out again
row your floating boat

yet the yeti see
yesterday’s a paper plane
you fucking pilchard
…

the things we write

~

the things we write ( etirw ew sgniht eht )

…

dear mrs. worthington,

fear not the fog lights

      wish you were hearsay

      seven bellend lane

long for a gone walk

or silverfish fishing

      full moon looming

      oven’s in the dinner

porpoises, portals

scribble ’til you’re normalzzz

      god is an onion

      sincerely yours, anon

ten crisp crescent

messrs so & so

      wet paint drying while

      – this pen is running ou

see how they rumba

episode three

      once upon a double dip

      chapter ninety nine

die, you fucking goblins

don’t forget a brollie

      eat more broccoli

      see you in the morrow

…