~
thyme travel ( levart emyht )
…
walking ‘fore the snowdrops
christen sleeping beds
roaming like a roman
or a saxon on a plod
feet upon the cobbles
or a ruddy muddy path
wafting herbal scents
not rabid badger musk
up before tomorrow
humming old folk rope
striding like a viking
or a georgian soldier soul
springs within my plimsolls
& a spriglet of the green stuff
tucked like a friar
in my anorak pocket
…
~
the trojan walrus ( surlaw najort eht )
…
cauliflower cloudburst
ten red bicycles
sideways laser rays
incandescent sunshine
tin can candlemas
matchstick mannequins
moon juice juggernaut
coleslaw sauropod
sugar paper plane
nosebleed rosaries
tempest telegrams
landfill filament
dipstick dictionary
seesaw sorcery
whistle on the rooftops
jesus loves unicorns
…
~
girlfriend in a coomer ( remooc a ni dneirflrig )
…
my true love
is live online
platinum members only
she is the itch
of my withering wrist
in this second adolescence
i am bewitched
by this digital bitch
webcam succubi – pumping me blind
she is fit
but thick as fuck
blander than a church sermon
drain again
my internet djinn
spread your sprawling tentacles
suck my brain
& fleeting ka
harder than the s.a.s
yes, the flesh
is but a vessel
but this ship is sinking here
spunking the jollop
of my monkey-ape japes
i know, i know – it’s serious
…
~
snails ( slians )
…
slugs but with a shell
roving slow & trail the dales
posting penned letters
…
~
technique … ish ( hsi … euqinhcet )
…
with leaden legs of stead
within the twists of sylphid mist
a scribble in the head
the mumbles crumb & play
the bumblebees in stumble me
the jumbles of the day
beneath the croaking cloud
or by the sprite of candle’s light
the monologue’s aloud
a play without a plot
a pantomime in underpants
a sort of pissing pot
the scrapes of nature notes
a stoat within a weasel wood
the scrotal scapes of goats
a coma on the run
the lottery of prosody
another smoking pun
i plod the sodden leas
within the wails & scale the dales
a song upon the breeze
& ink the life & times
the rise & scrawl of bugger all
until the fucker rhymes
…
~
( sneeze the day ) ( yad eht ezeens )
…
a-ch’
a-ch’
a-choosday
…
~
snoitcerid ( directions )
…
wash your hands again
like a modern pontius pilate
no right turn
or your birthday cake will burn
don’t the feed the unicorns
unless you’ve got a licence
best before yesterday
wear a pair of wellys
fly like a nightingale
box with the frogs
stick to the path
like a first class stamp
never eat shredded wheat
god save the badger
bend both knees
on a tuesday afternoon
be a good sheeple
& listen to the government
grow your own potatoes
in a hobbyhorse trough
may contain hazelnuts
& shut the fucking gate
this is not a circular
serve with seasonal greens
…
~
twenty, twenty, gone ( enog ,ytnewt ,ytnewt )
…
a roger up the buggered rear
a sausage of a sodding year
a little lizard’s lottery
it’s crystal cricket vision here
a paddle in the riddle’s pooh
another loosened mutant shrew
the flapping karens cancelled me
& nanna got the phantom flu
& so the rabid weasels rained
but cabbage poetry sustained
as muzzles masked the cattle “free”
& planet earth is shackle-chained
the droning global scrotums lie
so more will stumble, fall & die
so let the bumbled normalzzzz bee
& we will spread a butterfly
the road’s a fork, a bendy swan
it’s torque is twenty, twenty, gone
the past’s a rotten apple tree
& inkling scribbles bubble on
& fuck the piddle bucket’s list
with knotted knickers in a twist
the yawning dawn is calling thee
beyond the fog of yonder’s mist
…
~
all hail the cheese gods ( sdog eseehc eht liah lla )
…
fruits of the socks
the flocks
& the cocoa
babybel ringers
& cadbury crunchies
lovers of chilli
the stink
of a bishop
blue veined stalwarts
chips in a muffin
cheddar or white like
milky bars
– sparkle dark
king of the crackers
the soul of a pizza
queen of hobnobs
& the crack
in penguin biscuits
all hail the cheese gods
& chocolate goddesses
…
~
blah, blah, corona, blah ( halb , anoroc ,halb ,halb )
…
mutants, drones a wojak
on the six o’clock snooze
so the muffled muppets shake
little chickens shitting bricks
there’s a snare within the air
in the absence of a hare
as i shop with cash
with my stubbled chops unmasked
there’s the scars of self-harm
in the startled eyes of cattle
& a gap between the ears
in the year of the weasel
in a two ‘n’ middle eight
of a wank swansong
when the cult of science spins
so the hermits stroke their chins
there’s a star before the dawn
in the marbles of the morning
but the normalzzz is a wall
& the fucker will not fall
ruddy worms in every can
irk the squirms within my journals
words gather dust
like nightingale hospitals
…
resarf poetry 